


We Cannot Do This in a Rush

by Fantismal



Series: New ERA [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Best Boyfriend Markus, Characters talking about rape/torture, Dancing, Established Connor/Markus, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson & North Parent-Child Relationship, Healing from trauma, Health Issues, Love, M/M, Or thinking about it, Panic Attacks, RK1000 - Freeform, Rape Aftermath, Simon is the true MVP, Slow Burn, Support, Sweet, consent as a kink, rk1k - Freeform, supportive friends, supportive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantismal/pseuds/Fantismal
Summary: (AKA: Six Times Connor and Markus did not have Sex (and the first time they did!))Heavy spoilers for Sacrificial Lamb. I highly recommend you read that first.Connor is a free android now, and Markus is still trying to change the world. Finding time for their growing relationship is hard. It's made even harder by the entire truckload of trauma Connor is carrying with him from his time spent at CyberLife. Markus doesn't care. He loves Connor as he is, and is willing to take as much time as they need to help him heal.





	1. Jericho

**Author's Note:**

> The wonderful people at the Detroit: New ERA discord server have been overflowing with support and praise as I wrote this fic. I highly recommend you come join us if you haven't already! 
> 
> https://discord.gg/DUyFvVM

Markus was not the president. He had no elected role in Jericho. He didn't even have an official title. As far as the state was concerned, Markus was homeless and unemployed. That didn't stop the androids from treating him like the leader of the free world. That didn’t stop anyone from treating him like the leader of half the free world.  
  
Leaders of the free world didn’t get much time off. Not even leaders of only half the free world. Neither did the official world's first android detective either, for that matter. Between each of their workloads, Connor and Markus didn't have much free time that aligned.

That was okay, though. They made time when they could find it. Connor stopped by Jericho after work most days. Even though Simon's media blitz was over, the androids of Jericho still offered him warm welcomes. Louis, one of the BT450s, always threw a bottle of thirium when he stepped in the door of the bar, just to laugh as Connor caught it out of the air. Someone always made room for him at a table. He was invited into card games and discussions (though no one invited him to play darts with them after he broke the last set. He was okay with that. He hadn’t realized it was possible to be _too_ good at a game.)

Sometimes Connor lingered in the bar. He still felt awkward and out of place, but nobody seemed to be judging his history here, just like Markus always assured him. It was... nice. Connor liked Hank. He liked most of his colleagues at the station. He bonded with the humans over staring at mangled corpses and filing neverending paperwork at three in the morning. Here, he bonded with androids over curious or scornful looks, the way living eyes always slide to his LED as if he was on the verge of self-destructing, about the frustration of only ever being able to drink thirium.

When Markus had a minute, he pinged Connor, and Connor made his excuses. He slipped away from his table and headed upstairs to the large meeting room Markus used as an office. Simon was usually there too, bent over a tablet with Markus, but when Connor opened the door, Simon smiled and slipped past him. Markus got to his feet.

Markus still smiled at him like he was something new and wonderful. He still crossed the room like he needed to touch Connor or he'd shut down. Their hands still slid together, skin peeling back automatically. Markus' mind wrapped around Connor's, and Connor pressed his nose into the curve of Markus' neck, breathing deep.

They didn't usually talk. There was rarely time for words. Markus pressed his face into Connor's hair, and the two shared the highlights of their day, flashing memories too fast for humans to comprehend. Connor laughed at a joke Simon made. Markus pulled back and checked Connor's arm for injuries from the unruly suspect he apprehended earlier. He was fine. They were fine.

Markus always winced when he got a call during this time, a little furrow between his brows. Connor lifted himself up to kiss it. It melted away as Markus smiled, and he caught Connor around the waist to kiss his lips. Connor shivered at the sensation, wondering if all kisses would spark off his sensors like this, or if Markus really was something that magical.

"I have to go." Markus breathed the words into Connor's mouth, a sigh against his skin. "There's a meeting at CyberLife..."

"I know." Connor smiled, his fingers skimming down Markus' cheek. "I saw your schedule."

"Tomorrow night." Markus caught Connor's hand and kissed his finger tips. Connor shivered again: his fingers were the most sensitive, capable of picking up a strand of spider web stuck against a carpet. Markus' lips brushed against the delicate sensors, sending a frission of electric noise down his arm. "I promise."

"As long as the criminals behave."

Markus folded his arm around Connor's back as they head downstairs. Connor leaned his head against Markus' shoulder. They got smiles and nods from the androids they pass, but no one tried to interrupt them to ask Markus for anything. Connor appreciated the gift of time.

Simon was already in the autocab, tapping away on his ever-present tablet. He glanced up when they approached and nodded at Connor. "Thanks for bringing him down. He'd never leave you otherwise."

"Someone has to be the responsible android."

Markus huffed and rolled his eyes. He caught Connor's face for another kiss, pressing their foreheads together. **_Tomorrow._**

Tomorrow was a Saturday. Connor spent the morning with Hank and Sumo. Hank was doing laundry. Sumo was chasing balls that Connor threw. Somehow, Connor ended up with more balls than he started with. He was pretty sure the pink one was never Sumo’s to begin with.

At six, Connor pulled on a brown leather jacket. He didn’t _really_ need it, even though the air is cool. He won’t suffer from cold temperatures until it dips well below freezing, but Hank insisted that in November, if you’re not wearing a coat, you’re insane.

Connor wasn’t insane. He didn’t think he was, at least. And he liked this coat. It reminded him of Hank.

Coat in place, Connor stepped outside and starts to walk. He slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered his coin. He could take a cab if he wanted to, but… he liked walking through Detroit. He liked seeing the people going about their lives. He liked seeing humans and androids both together, just… doing things. Walking their dogs. Shopping. Going out for drinks.

At five to seven, Connor was finally in Ferndale. The great shape of Jericho’s sunken hull still loomed above the river in places. It’s been a year since the explosion tore through the androids’ first safe haven, and there were more important things than removing the slowly rusting metal from the unused dock.

Connor took a running leap and landed on the deck with a roll to preserve his joints. He stood up and dusted himself off, tugging his jacket straight just before a pair of arms wrapped around from behind and Markus’ lips brushed his neck. “Hi. You’re early.”

“You’re earlier.” Connor closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, letting Markus kiss his way up to Connor’s chin. He set his hands on Markus’, their skin pulling back, their interface opening.

Markus was a riot of emotion today, pride and sadness and loss and triumph. Connor turned in his hold and caught his face, kissing him softly. Markus sighed, his hands heavy on Connor’s shoulders. “I hate this place. I love it.”

“Our first date,” Connor said.

Markus chuckled, his cold nose brushing over Connor’s cheek. “And, apparently, our third.”

“Hank says our ideas of good dates really suck.”

Markus laughed louder, his forehead dropping to Connor’s shoulder. “I don’t know, isn’t going out to a movie a typical date?”

“I argued that too.” Connor remembered their second date fondly. The two had slunk out of their respective duties one afternoon and slipped into an iMax movie, curling up together in the back and watching an utterly fascinating movie. “Hank said documentaries aren’t romantic, even if they are of the bottom of the ocean.”

“Well… Hank isn’t us. And I like our dates.” Markus slid his hands down to Connor’s and squeezed their fingers together. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Old Jericho was technically condemned, but the two androids crossed the groaning metal deck without worry. The charring from the fires that destroyed much of the ship after the explosives went off was everywhere, but Connor had scanned the wreck a week ago and deduced that it still had 86% structural integrity and was a suitable place to go on the one-year anniversary of his deviancy.

Markus stepped into the bridge, but Connor lingered in the doorway, his hand slipping out of Markus’. Markus turned as their fingers separated, looking puzzled.

“This is where I was the first time I saw your face,” Connor murmured. “With your skin on. You were… so sad.”

“You were scared,” Markus countered. “But so brave. You had no idea what defenses I had in place or how I would react, but you still pointed a gun at my head and informed me you _were_ bringing me in, alive or dead.” He took a step closer to Connor, just like he had a year ago, his hands spread non-threateningly. Instead of his long white coat, Markus was wearing a soft suede one with wool lining. It was puffy around his neck. A knitted hat was pulled low over his head. He was trying to break up his usual silhouette so they could have privacy, but Connor remembered what he looked like on that fateful night, tall and proud and tired.

“You gave voice to all of the doubts I could never admit.” This time, Connor took a step closer to Markus. “You _explained_ the rolling confusion in my code, and I just…” His fingers brushed Markus’ chin. “I couldn’t.”

“I couldn’t have stopped you if you had.” Markus closed the distance between them, his mouth finding Connor’s again. **_I’d never seen anyone like you before. I was fascinated. Entranced. And I wanted to keep you near me._**

_Even back then?_ Connor loved when Markus kissed him like this, his hands on either side of Connor’s face, licking into his mouth and letting Connor taste him, deconstruct him, _know_ him.

**_Even before you deviated. You were so hurt. I wanted you to stop hurting._ **

_You’re too good to us._

**_I love you. I can never be good enough._ **

Connor’s hands settled on Markus’ sides and he stepped forward. Markus stepped back, not breaking their kiss. Connor stepped again and again, slowly urging Markus back until he bumped into the ruined navigation station. Markus let him push, his hands sliding up so his fingers were threading through Connor’s hair, completely trusting.

A year ago, Connor had looked at Markus and wanted to know why all the other androids trusted him. A year ago, he’d been lost and alone, and he could see it in the eyes of the other deviants he encountered… but once they found Markus, that fear disappeared. Markus gave them strength, and Connor had wanted to understand it. He’d wanted to feel it too.

A year ago, Connor would have never understood even if Markus had kissed him then. He would have struggled simply comprehending a hug. Markus simply offering his _trust_ had been overwhelming. A year ago, Connor had been barely more than a machine.

Now? Connor still felt young and stupid at times, so naive to the ways of humanity and the world. He understood more, understood pain and fear and shame, but he also understood love and trust and just how _good_ it felt to have his hands slide down to Markus’ hips, gripping tight and lifting him up. Markus laughed into his mouth as Connor set him on the navigation panel, the old wood creaking beneath his weight, but he parted his knees and drew Connor in closer.

Markus’ legs hooked around the back of Connor’s thighs, and Connor leaned against the desk as he fought Markus back into Markus’ mouth, chasing his laughter to its source. Markus’ nails ran down Connor’s back and Markus’ laugh died out, turning into a shaky sigh of pleasure. The night was cold, but Markus was warm beneath him and around him, and Connor loved this android. He loved everything Markus had ever done for him. He loved everything Markus continued to do for him. He wanted to give something back.

It was their third date, after all. Third date was for sex. Connor pulled a hand between them, finding the rapid pulse of Markus’ thirium pump in his chest. Markus arched his back, pushing up into the touch. Their lips never parted, their connection dissolving to emotions and feelings, a constant loop of feedback. Connor could feel his hand on Markus’ chest _through_ Markus’ chest, feel Markus’ sensors reacting to his own touch, could feed Markus the electric zing in his own fingers as he dragged his hand down further. Markus groaned softly, his teeth catching on Connor’s tongue before he forced his mouth open, a soft pulse of **_...sorry…_** through their link, which Connor quickly forgave.

Connor’s hand was right above the bottom of Markus’ coat. He could feel where the suede dropped away to the warm denim of Markus’ jeans, and he knew what he’d find if he pulled his hand just a little lower. Markus’ arousal was warm and heavy between them, his pulse elevated, his body just faintly overheated from the lack of breathing. Connor _wanted_. He wanted to drop his hand down, wanted to touch Markus’ dick and make Markus feel as good as Markus made him… but he didn’t.

_I…_

Markus broke the kiss, sucking in a breath and then another, panting against Connor’s lips. “Con?” he asked, his voice somehow husky despite his voice modulator not at all tied to the systems that were also triggering the signs of arousal.

Markus was looking at him, hands reaching back up to trace his face. Connor could feel his mismatched gaze even with his own eyes closed. He ducked his head, pressing his lips to Markus’ palm.

“Why are you doing this?” Markus asked softly. They were still connected, but Markus was choosing to use his voice, his real voice, soft and warm and loving, the voice that charmed the world.

“I love you,” Connor answered, though that was not what Markus meant and not the answer he wanted. They both knew it. Markus laughed softly and pressed his lips to Connor’s temple.

“I love you too. But you don’t want this. Why are you doing it?” The words were whispered against Connor’s hair, soft breath ruffling the strands. Markus’ arms were around him, holding him close, cradling him against Markus’ chest, protecting him. Connor shivered, his hand dropping to Markus’ thigh, safely away from his groin.

“I… isn’t this how it goes?” Connor asked. “On the third date?”

Understanding was chased by sadness and acceptance through their link, and Markus tilted Connor’s face up to brush a chaste kiss against his lips. “Only if you want it,” he murmured. “Only if we _both_ want it. So no. Not on this date. Not here.”

Connor opened his eyes, meeting Markus’. They were warm and loving and not at all judgmental or pitying. Connor pushed into Markus’ head, combing his fingers through his lover’s emotions. Markus opened beneath him, revealing no annoyance. There was a thread of frustration, but when Connor plucked at it, Markus merely rolled his eyes and pushed him away. “You kiss too well. That’ll go away, just give me a minute.”

“I’m sorry.”

Markus tugged Connor into another gentle kiss. “I’m not. I love you. And I love kissing you. I love being able to just do _this_ , spend time together, _together,_ ” he pushed his joy through their interface, “without being interrupted. Without responsibilities to attend to, or people to talk to. Without bad guys to chase down, or to hurt you.”

“They don’t hurt me anymore.”

“They damage you.” Markus pouted, tugging one of Connor’s arms up to press a kiss to his forearm. Three weeks ago, Connor had taken a nasty cut there as a suspect drew a knife and Connor had nothing but his arm to block.

“It’s part of my job.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Markus set his hands on Connor’s chest and gave him a little push. Connor took a step back, and Markus slid off the navigation station. “Let’s go outside again. Come here. I want to show you something.”

Connor frowned, curling his fingers around Markus’ outstretched hand, but he followed the other android out. Markus released his hand to climb a ladder, moving to the highest point left on Jericho. Connor followed, his frown deepening as Markus stretched out on his back on the roof above the bridge and patted the metal beside him. “Join me.”

Connor sat beside Markus, and Markus seized his shoulders and tugged him down. They wiggled a bit, figuring out how to comfortably curl up together. Markus’ left arm was tucked beneath Connor’s shoulders, and Connor’s head rested against Markus’ neck. “Look up.” Markus gestured toward the night sky. Connor followed his hand. “Have you ever stargazed, Connor?”

The sky above was dark but clear. The bright lights of the city overwhelmed the stars. Connor frowned, but Markus tugged him a little closer. “ _Trust me,_ ” he whispered.

Connor slid his eyes down to his lover, but as he did, he gasped, realizing he _could_ see the stars, but only in his peripheral vision. If he let his eyes unfocus, he could filter out the city lights and _there_ , the cosmos opened above him. “I’ve… never seen the stars before,” Connor realized.

“I came up here one night,” Markus murmured. “I was so alone and hurting and confused. This was before everything, before the raids, the protests, the speech. I was still reeling over how fast everything fell apart, and I just laid here so the others couldn’t find me, and the sky opened up and I just… I realized how little it all mattered. And how much it _could_ matter. I love the stars. Drowning them out is the worst thing humanity has ever done.”

“They’re still there.” Connor slid an arm over Markus’ waist, holding him as he was being held.

“Yes,” Markus agreed. “And so are we.”


	2. Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As savior of the android world, Markus has to go to fancy parties. Connor gets invited along...but he and Markus aren't a public couple. They can't dance together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the same party North left in Emotional Wrestling.
> 
> Art is by the lovely kao from the Discord server!

“North! Are you okay?”

Connor breathed a sigh of relief as Markus’ eyes unfocused, clearly answering a call from North. He squeezed Markus’ shoulder, and Markus’ hand gripped his tightly.

“What happened?” Markus flinched at whatever North’s response was. “North, I'm sorry, I never should have…” He paused, nodding slightly. “I'm sorry. You're sure you're okay?”

Markus’ hand was relaxing slightly around Connor’s. His thumb rubbed over Connor’s knuckles absently. “I love you.” That crease between his brows returned as he frowned. “Match?”

Whatever North answered had Markus bewildered. He shook his head with a little smile. “...have fun. Goodnight, North. I'm glad you're okay.” There was a pause, and then he actually blushed, the faintest red tinge coloring the synthetic skin across his cheeks, his eyes going wide. “North! You can’t just…” He blinked and looked up at Connor. Connor was fascinated by the new coloring. He wanted to kiss it. He settled for brushing a finger across Markus’ cheek. “She hung up on me.”

“But she’s okay.”

“Seems to be.”

“I told you she could defend herself.”

“I know, I just…” Markus turned his face into Connor’s hand, letting Connor cup his cheek gently, his eyes drifting closed. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. It takes a lot for her to admit discomfort. I should have known it was bad just from the simple fact that she was bringing it up.”

“You’re not perfect,” Connor murmured. “That’s just an act you put on. You can’t start believing it yourself, or this will happen more and more.”

“Listen to you, being the wise one…” Markus took a deep breath. “I still feel like I failed her.”

“You’ll see her tomorrow,” Connor assured him. “You can talk to her then, beg for her forgiveness, kiss her steel-toed boots.”

“Heh. She’ll be happy to be in sensible footwear again.”

“Her shoes tonight were remarkably sturdy for their design. I’m confident that if she had been manhandled in any way, she could have done just as much damage with nine-inch heels as she would have with her favorite boots.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Markus pushed himself to his feet, catching Connor in his arms and twirling him around. “Dance with me?”

“Here?” Connor asked, momentarily caught off guard. He put his hands on Markus’ shoulders, not pressing him away. “ _Now_? Markus, people will notice!”

“Simon’s covering for me.” Markus leaned in, brushing their lips together. “And I’ve wanted to dance with you all night.”

Connor sighed, melting into the kiss like he always did. His arms slid up around Markus’ neck and he let Markus sway them to the faint music coming from the country club behind them. “We’ve been out here for twenty minutes already,” he protested. Markus’ arms were folding around his waist, pulling him close. “You are the guest of honor. You need to be seen.”

“You make me selfish,” Markus murmured back. “I just want to do this all night.”

 

“You can.” Connor pushed his fingers between their mouths, smiling at Markus’ pout. “ _After_ this party. Hank kicked me out, remember? I have no place to go tonight.”

“Oh no, my boyfriend’s homeless!” Markus nipped at Connor’s sensitive fingertips, making him shiver. “You promise you’ll dance with me at Jericho?”

“I promise.”

Markus studied Connor’s face, but then he sighed and nodded, releasing him. “There are some days I wish I weren’t the savior of the android world.”

“I can’t imagine a day I’d wish I _were_.” Connor tugged his tux coat straight and reached out to smooth Markus’ back into place. He did a subtle scan, but Markus’ sudden _look_ told him he hadn’t been sneaky enough.

“You _can_ just ask, you know.”

“You can also lie.” Markus’ stress levels had dropped to 42%, which was slightly elevated but still in the normal range for him. Markus was always stressed. Connor could empathize. Both of them had highly stressful jobs. “I’d rather know the truth.”

“I’m not about to self-destruct. I am much more well-adjusted than that.”

Connor caught Markus’ eye before they both cracked. Connor muffled his laugh in his hand, and Markus chuckled, tipping his head back to look up at the night sky. “Whatever you say, o fearless leader.”

“Let’s go back inside, Detective Anderson.”

Connor couldn’t help but smile. The title had come with the job Fowler offered him, but the name had come slightly before. Connor had needed a surname for the application. Hank had snorted at his dilemma and shook his head. _Just call yourself Anderson already, son._ And so Connor acquired a second name, cementing his place in Hank’s family. Markus knew it always stirred up little bubbles of happiness inside Connor whenever someone addressed him by his new surname (or his title!), and he made a point of doing so whenever he could catch Connor off guard.

He placed his hand on Markus’ back, leading him back inside. They’d slipped out earlier under the pretense of needing some fresh air, which really wasn’t that much of a lie. The stress over losing North had been screwing up Markus’ temperature regulator, and Markus needed to be away from the crowd of hot human bodies until he could calm down. Connor had gone with him as his security, and Simon had made their excuses.

Speaking of Simon… _Incoming call: #369 911 329…_ Connor accepted Simon’s link from across the room.

**He seems calmer.**

_We found North. She walked away. She gave Markus a call._

**Thank rA9. Is she okay?**

_She’s fine and she’s safe._

**Is whomever she’s with okay?**

Connor laughed quietly, catching Simon’s smirk across the room. _He’s fine too._

**Oooh?**

_She’s with Hank._

**I did not see that coming! Maybe you’re about to get a new mom…**

Connor blinked, nearly tripping over his own feet. Markus caught his arm, shooting him a frown.

Simon was laughing out loud, waving off a curious human’s question. **Sorry, sorry!**

_I… don’t think Hank is interested in her like that. Or she in him._

**I know. I was just teasing. Please send Markus over here. Jake McKinley would like a chance to talk to him.**

“Simon was teasing me about North marrying Hank,” Connor explained to Markus. “And Jake McKinley would like to talk to you. He’s by Simon now.”

Markus sighed. “I remember Jake. He’d come to all of Carl’s exhibitions. I don’t think he ever fully approved of me.”

“He’ll approve of you now.” Connor gave Markus a little push. “Go charm his socks off.”

“You still owe me,” Markus murmured. **_Tonight…_**

Connor bit back a smile at the quick interface. _Tonight,_ he promised.

Markus was the guest of honor tonight at this celebration of android rights, a black tie gala where androids rubbed elbows with some of Detroit’s upper crust of humans, but Connor was getting his own fair share of attention. Ever since the infamous CyberLife case, Connor’s face was a familiar one. In some ways, he was even more relatable to the humans than Markus was: most of them could easily empathize with wanting to go home to their dog. _Fearless Leader_ was what they called Markus, but Connor had acquired a new title himself: _Indomitable Hope._

While Markus mingled and schmoozed, Connor was pulled into dance after dance with various humans, making idle small talk, mostly about Sumo or the human’s own pets. Connor was surprised at how many people congratulated him or said he was clearly so much happier than he had been when he was on TV. “I’m home now,” Connor always answered. “That makes all the difference.”

When the club was finally politely booting the last stragglers to the door, Josh, Simon, Markus, and Connor all headed out to the limousine that had brought them here. They tumbled into the back and slumped into their various seats. “Car,” Markus called, his head already dropping onto Connor’s shoulder. “We’re all going to Jericho now.”

“Don’t we have to drop Connor off?” Josh asked.

Connor shook his head. “North and I are swapping bedrooms for the night.”

“Uh-huh,” Simon teased. “Because you’re definitely sleeping in _North’s_ bed.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Markus said. “You’re just jealous that I’ll get a Connor-pillow.”

“Absolutely,” Simon dead-panned. “That is absolutely what this is all about.”

The limousine pulled smoothly into traffic. Connor adjusted his arm around Markus’ back, letting the other android switch to low-power mode without being contorted against his side.

“We had some major successes tonight,” Simon said, going through his notes. “The Conways have agreed to match all donations for the building project up to $250,000. And McKinley is donating his architects’ time.”

“Guess he did approve of you after all,” Connor murmured.

“Mmhmm…” Markus’ eyes were closed, his breathing stopped. He was recovering from the exhausting night, but he was still paying attention to what they were saying. Connor pressed a kiss to the top of Markus’ head, watching his lips twitch in a smile.

“Kamski reaffirmed CyberLife’s initial donation of $100,000,” Josh said. “And Chloe hinted that if we meet the full match from the Conways, there will be another large donation.”

“This is actually possible.” Simon looked up from his tablet, glancing around to catch all of their eyes. “We’re actually going to make a home for androids, a _real_ home, and not some repurposed concentration camp.”

“I never thought it could happen,” Josh murmured, staring at his knees but grinning broadly. “We’re doing it. We’re actually _living_!”

“Thirium all around when we get back,” Markus said without opening his eyes.

“I think _you_ need to go to bed,” Simon said. “You’re looking very tired, Markus.”

“Goooo fuck yourself.” Markus cracked his eyes open and smiled. “Connor promised me a dance. I’m resting up for that.”

“We can always dance tomorrow,” Connor said, but Markus was shaking his head, sitting upright.

“I want to dance with you looking like _this_.”

Now it was Connor’s turn to blush, tugging at his tux jacket again. They were all dressed up for the event, and while Connor personally believed Markus looked the most incredible, having opted for an older fashioned long jacket to mimic his trademark long coat, Markus had declared Connor “born to wear a suit” and had been slipping him compliments all night.

“Honestly, you two are adorable,” Simon said. “And I couldn’t be happier for you. But seriously, _get a room_.”

“Oh!” Connor nudged Markus’ side. “I know how to respond to that!” He turned to Simon and extended his middle finger, causing all three of the others to burst out laughing.

“Our innocent detective has finally been corrupted!” Josh slapped his leg. “Took you long enough!”

“Your father is a _bad_ influence!” Simon shook his head. “Don’t do that at a press conference, okay?”

“I’d never spoil my public image.” Connor settled back into the seat and tugged Markus close again, smiling as Markus’ head automatically found its way back onto Connor’s shoulder. “I am the innocent cinnamon roll who just wants his puppy.”

“That’s my boy.”

Back at Jericho, Simon and Josh broke off to go to the bar, while Markus and Connor headed upstairs, their fingers interlaced, skin pulled back. Markus tugged Connor into his room and had his arms around Connor’s waist before the door even finished closing. “You owe me a dance.”

“You are so insistent upon this…” There wasn’t much space in Markus’ small room, but the center was clear enough for them to sway together. Markus nodded toward his keyboard, turning it on and setting it to automatically play a waltz they had heard at the country club.

“I had to smile and be nice and self-deprecating all night,” Markus said, “when all I wanted to do was stare at you. And then that whole mess with North… I just want to be in your arms tonight, Con. I’m glad Hank kicked you out. Saved me from having to ask if you’d come home with me.”

Connor caught Markus’ mouth, kissing him deeply as they swayed. They both had waltz steps programmed into their bodies, but somehow, this simple swaying was enough. Markus directed them lazily around in a circle as they lost themselves in the music and each other.

Connor nipped at Markus’ lip, then trailed kisses across his jaw. Markus sighed, his hands sliding higher, using Connor’s back for support as he leaned into Connor’s embrace, opening his body up to Connor’s mouth. Connor traced his tongue over every thirium vein he could feel, tasting the slight variations in Markus’ chemical makeup.

“You are,” Markus murmured, and Connor could feel the words vibrate in his throat, “absolutely breathtaking in that tuxedo, but I really want to get you out of it.” His hands were sliding up beneath Connor’s coat, fingers pressing against the sensors on Connor’s back.

_“Strip for me…” Reed’s voice, harsh and mocking, his cold eyes as he lifted his phone…_

**_No! Connor, come back to me. Connor!_ **

Connor opened his eyes. He’d stopped moving, his fingers digging into Markus’ hips, breath coming shallow and fast. He blinked a few times, clearing the tears that had been starting to well up, then sagged forward, his head dropping onto Markus’ shoulder. Markus immediately folded his arms high around Connor’s back, his lips brushing Connor’s hair, his ear, his temple.

“I’m sorry, Connor, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I know,” Connor whispered. “I know, I just… don’t have… anything else.”

“I just meant… you shouldn’t wear this tux to bed. It’ll get all wrinkled.”

Connor huffed slightly, forcing his fingers to relax. Markus couldn’t feel pain, but he _could_ feel Connor’s distress. “That is not what you meant.”

“It’s part of what I meant?” Markus brushed against Connor’s mind again, asking permission. Connor opened the connection, greedy for the feel of Markus’ soothing touch against his overclocked processor.

Markus sent him a thought, the two of them in his bed, sharing the charger, wrapped up together and kissing until they fell asleep. They were both dressed, but in some of Markus’ old painter clothes, not their formalwear. **_I meant this…_**

Connor pressed his face into the crook of Markus’ neck, breathing in his scent, cataloguing it as Markus, breaking it down into all its subcomponents, and repeating. His thirium pump slowed, responding to his regulator. He was calming down. _That would be very nice._

Markus kissed Connor’s temple one more time and squeezed his back. “I’ll get you some clothes to change into and make my evening rounds. I’ll be back in ten minutes?”

Connor caught Markus’ wrist. _You don’t have to go,_ he wanted to say, but at the same time, he knew he would be more comfortable if he were alone when he changed. He didn’t understand why: his body was perfectly functional, and Markus had seen him unclothed many times before. Still, there was something about the act of taking his clothes off that made him feel vulnerable, even around Markus.

Markus lifted his wrist and kissed Connor’s fingers. “Ten minutes,” he promised. “You can get in bed.”

Connor nodded, releasing Markus. The other android withdrew and padded to his closet. He pulled out a t-shirt and some flannel pants, as well as a coat hanger. “Here. Just don’t forget it in my closet tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Markus.”

“I love you.” Markus reached out, trailing his fingers down Connor’s chin. “Trauma and all.”

“I know.” Connor closed his eyes. “I still have no idea why…”

“Do I need a reason?” Markus brushed his lips against the tip of Connor’s nose. “Ten minutes.”

As soon as Markus turned away, Connor felt his loss abruptly. He hugged the pajamas against his chest as Markus slipped into the hall, starting up a 10 minute timer. Markus wouldn’t be late.

Taking off his jacket was fairly easy. Connor laid that out on the bed, then removed his waistcoat. He smoothed that out too. His tie came next, leaving him feeling slightly vulnerable, but it was just a scrap of silk around his neck. Connor took a breath, closing his eyes and reaching for his buttons. His hands paused.

_Markus?_

**_Mm?_ **

_I love you._

Connor swore he could feel Markus smile, even though that was impossible with the distance between them right now. **_I love you too, Connor._**

_Talk to me?_

**_I have to admit, I like seeing you in my clothes. I love you in a suit, but when you loosen up… the suit gives you structure, Connor, but sometimes I feel like a t-shirt and sweatpants makes you more real._ **

_I like suits._

**_I know, and if I looked half as good in a suit as you did, I’d probably like them more myself._ **

_You do look amazing in suits._

**_Doesn’t really go with the whole ‘rebel leader’ vibe I’ve got going on, though._ **

They shared a laugh. Markus’ rich voice in Connor’s head was keeping him distracted as his hands moved down the line of buttons and quickly stripped his shirt off. He immediately dropped it and grabbed for the t-shirt, pulling that on.

It smelled like Markus.

Connor paused, lifting the neck of the t-shirt up to take another breath of the faded cotton. Yes, between the laundry detergent and the cotton itself was the tang of Markus’ thirium, barely there beneath the sharper smell of the paints crusting the front of his shirt. It soothed him, like he had Markus wrapped around him again, and his stress levels dropped.

The pants weren’t quite as soothing, though Connor whole-heartedly approved of the soft flannel against his legs. He couldn’t smell Markus on those without contorting himself in half, and really, that was unnecessary when he had the shirt. Connor hung his suit neatly from the hanger Markus had provided, tucking it back in the closet, and then climbed into Markus’ bed.

_You can come back whenever._

**_Just one more place to check on, then I’ll be right up._ **

Connor sunk beneath the sheets, pulling them up to his nose. These smelled like Markus too, and less like paint. They weren’t especially soft. Connor liked soft things. Maybe he’d get Markus some soft sheets with a high thread count. Or silk ones. Connor liked silk sheets. Or flannel ones. Oh yes. Flannel sheets with those abstract flower designs. That seemed like something Markus would like.

Not that Markus would need to change his sheets solely for Connor’s sake. But all androids could appreciate soft things, even if they weren’t as sensitive as Connor was. Markus was exactly the sort of person who had these sheets because they were already here when he got the room and there was no reason to waste money on himself when he had something already adequate. Markus was always going on about how androids could _want_ now, and so they _should_ want, and they should make choices and own things and call things _theirs_ and say when things weren’t good enough, and then he always went and ignored his own words.

Connor would buy Markus some sheets.

As he decided this, there was a light tap on the door and a ping from Markus.

_Come in._

Markus opened the door and slipped inside, still in his tux. Connor sat up, still holding the blankets against his face. Markus raised an eyebrow. “Are you… making out with my bed?”

“It smells like you.”

“Oh?” Markus tugged his coat off as he strode closer. He laid it across Connor’s legs and leaned down to kiss his lips. “Did you miss me?”

“It helped.” Connor abandoned the sheets in favor of reaching for Markus again, his hands sliding up Markus’ neck and behind his ears. Markus hummed, kissing him again.

“As much as I could do this all night, I need to get out of my own tux.” Markus stole another kiss. “You can watch if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

“You’re devastatingly handsome in a suit,” Connor said. “But it’s not really you. I like you paint-stained and disheveled best.”

“Then tonight, I will be as paint-stained as you want.” One more kiss before Markus pulled away, unthreading the tie from around his throat.

Connor watched Markus strip off his vest and turn toward his closet. His shirt grew looser as he undid the buttons, and Connor felt his stomach twist unpleasantly. He laid down and rolled away, facing the wall and tugging the blankets back up to his nose. It was just Markus. It wasn’t Cunningham. Cunningham didn’t look a thing like Markus.

Connor closed his eyes as he listened to Markus moving around the room, the rustle of cloth, the clink of hangers. The soft weight of the coat was lifted off his legs, and then the closet doors closed. Connor didn’t open his eyes again until the blankets shifted and Markus settled into bed behind him, one white arm sliding over his waist.

**_This okay?_ **

Connor rolled over, looking into Markus’ eyes inches from his own. He took a deep breath and smelled the paint on Markus’ clothes, the clean cotton, the plastic and thirium and fire that made up _Markus_.

_It is now._

Markus smiled, using his arm around Connor’s waist to tug himself closer. Their legs tangled together beneath the blankets, but that was okay too, more points of contact for the interface. Connor burrowed into the crook of Markus’ neck, and Markus rested his cheek against Connor’s hair.

**_Good night, Connor Anderson._ **

Connor’s lips twitched in a smile, and he felt Markus’ silent chuckle tremor in his shoulders. _Good night, Markus Manfred. I hope you enjoyed your dance._

 ** _I did._** Markus’ lips brushed over Connor’s scalp as the lights turned out with a silent command. **_Very much. Thank you._**

_I always keep my promises._


	3. Storm Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor's not the only one with trauma in New Jericho.

The sky was heavy and gray, ominous clouds gathering overhead. Connor stood outside the main building at New Jericho, head tilted back, watching their movement. The rain would start any moment now.

There was something thrilling about a good storm. The wild electricity that charged the sky made Connor's synapses pulse in response. The roll of thunder, the sonic boom of the air itself bursting apart, felt like some sort of primal heartbeat. Storms were how the _planet_ lived, and Connor loved them.

The rain began with a sudden sharp patter that swept toward him, mist rising from the pavement. Connor lifted his arms and let the water fall against the sleeves of his jacket, soaking into his hair and rolling across his skin.

“Hey.”

Heavy boots splashed through the puddles already beginning to form, and a slim hand fell on Connor's shoulder. Connor looked over at North, offering her a smile. “Hello.”

“Are you doing anything tonight?” The rain clung to North's long lashes and rolled down her face like tears, but Connor knew she wasn't crying. She blinked, shaking the droplets away. “With Hank?”

“I had no plans,” Connor said. “I was hoping Markus would have some free time this evening, but he hasn't responded yet.”

“Yeah...he's not going to.” North glanced over her shoulder. “Respond, that is.”

Connor frowned, and North looked back at him, jerking her thumb toward the building. “He's probably in his room. Go keep him company until the storm passes, at least?”

“I don't want to distract him if he's busy. He hasn't invited me in, so…”

“ _Please_ distract him.” North stepped closer to Connor, dropping her voice low. “It was like this the night he...was killed.”

“ _Oh._ ” Markus’ silence suddenly made perfect sense. Connor understood all too well how it felt to be burdened with memories and not want to share them. He never wanted to drag anyone else down in his misery. Of course Markus would feel the same, if not more so. Markus was the androids’ pillar of strength and hope, a constant source of optimism. Sometimes Markus got stuck in his own head too much, believing he _couldn't_ be fallible. He wasn't allowed.

Connor could relate to that too.

“Thank you, North.”

After stepping inside, Connor tried to shake as much of the rain off as he could. He left wet footprints as he climbed the stairs and went down the hall to Markus’ room.

A knock on the door wasn't answered. Neither was Connor's gentle ping. _Markus?_ He pressed his hand against the access panel, unlocking the door. He didn't even have to hack it. At some point, Markus had added him to his security.

The room was dark and still. Connor closed the door behind him and toed off his shoes. Markus wasn't breathing, but Connor could pick up the faintest whisper of his thirium pump beneath the patter of the rain on the metal roof. Connor hung his wet coat on the door knob and crossed the room to kneel by the bed.

_I know you're here._ Connor reached out, brushing his fingers against the lump in the bed. _May I come in?_

Finally, Markus breathed, stirring beneath Connor's contact. **_Don't be wet._** He rolled away beneath the blankets and then lifted an arm behind him to invite Connor in. Connor hesitated, then reached down for the fly of his jeans. He'd been standing in the rain. The denim was soaked.

Markus was patient, but Markus was waiting, and Markus had made a request. Connor shimmied out of the wet pants, leaving them on the ground before he climbed into Markus’ bed. The blankets dropped over him, cocooning him in soft warmth.

Connor shifted closer, wrapping his arm around Markus’ waist. Markus was facing the wall, away from Connor, but he pushed back against him. A roll of thunder filled the room, and Markus shuddered in Connor's arms. He covered Connor's hand and laced their fingers together..

**_I'm sorry._ **

_Shhh…_ Connor dusted kisses over the back of Markus’ head. He tugged him closer, hooking a bare leg around Markus’ covered ones, hugging him with his full body. _It's okay. I'm here now._

**_You weren't supposed to find me like this._ **

_I wasn't?_ Markus shook his head, and Connor hummed against his scalp. _So, what, you're allowed to hold me when I'm breaking, but I can't return the favor?_

**_Connor…_ **

_Selfish little messiah._

**_You know that's not what I meant._** There was a faint glimmer of appreciation in the dark cloud covering Markus’ usual light. Connor closed his eyes to better focus on it.

_You're hurting, Markus._

**_I'm not, really._** There was a mirthless laugh. Connor could feel Markus’ fingers tightening over his. **_This is entirely stupid._**

_No._ Connor tugged at Markus’ hip, forcing him to roll over and face him. He could feel the memories Markus was trying to hide away, the anger at Leo, the horror at hurting him, at making Carl cry out so desperately, the betrayal at the police who had answered _his_ call and shot him anyway, and then the junkyard, that terrifying hellscape of androids dead and dying, illuminated by flashes of lightning, rain pooling in rusting chassis and pouring down exposed white plastic. Connor found Markus’ mouth in the dark, kissing him desperately, pushing past those memories to wrap them up, wrap _Markus_ up in his own mind. _It's not stupid, Markus._

**_It's just a bit of rain,_** Markus protested, even as he clung to Connor's shoulders, kissing him like Connor's mouth was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

_It is not, and you know it._ Connor wasn't as good at comforting as Markus was. The right words didn't come in a natural flow. He felt thoroughly inadequate in the face of Markus’ despair, but he couldn't give up.

_Markus, you were as good as dead out there. Death hurts, even when it's not painful. I know._ Connor let himself remember a flicker of an interrogation room, a gun pointed at his head. _More than death, you were betrayed. You are allowed to hurt after that. You are allowed to be angry._

**_I can't-_ **

_Be selfish, Markus._ Connor brought his hands up to cradle his lover's face. _You're always telling us to embrace or emotions, good and bad. Let yourself do the same._

**_...I'm scared._ **

_I'm here._

Markus shoved at Connor's shoulders, pushing him into his back. Connor let himself roll, let Markus climb over him, pinning him down with his mouth and hands. His knees were on either side of Connor's hips, the flannel sheets Connor had gifted him with stretching across his back.

This was a rare aggressive side of Markus. Connor knew it existed, knew Markus’ placid exterior wasn't his whole personality, but it was still intriguing to experience it first hand. Markus dragged his hands down Connor's chest, fingers catching on all the buttons of his shirt. His mouth was sealed over Connor's own, catching every little sound that escaped as he dragged his tongue against Connor's sensitive one.

A small part of Connor wanted to tense and run, his mind automatically connecting Markus’ aggression to Cunningham's. Markus’ mind, dark and clouded though it was, latched on to that point of distress. Connor pushed Markus away from it mentally, growling between their connection. _Don't you dare stop._

The aggression was linked to Cunningham, but nothing else was. Markus’ hands were _Markus’_ , strong and warm, pressing against his back, wrapped around his wrists, interlinked with his own. Markus’ kiss could never be mistaken for anyone else’s, as Connor had no other experiences to subconsciously link it to. Markus’ body over his was a known warmth, cooler than a human's, firmer, with a familiar crust of dried paint in the cotton of his shirt. In Markus’ bed, wrapped in Markus’ sheets, pressed beneath Markus’ body, Connor was acutely aware that he was surrounded by someone he loved, someone who loved him. All he could smell was Markus. There was no sweat, no semen, no sticky skin or clink of a belt. 

Markus’ hands pushed back against Connor, roughing up his shirt. Connor felt it drag against his belly, felt Markus hesitate. _Don't stop,_ he repeated. _Trust me. I'll stop you if I'm uncomfortable._

Maybe. Probably. Hank drilled it into his head enough: Markus didn't get to make him uncomfortable just because Connor liked him. Connor knew he could physically stop Markus from hurting him, but he wasn't positive he had the mental strength to stand up to his lover. It never mattered before.

It might matter now. Markus was clearly on edge from the storm dragging out old memories, and he was trying to get some sort of comfort from Connor's body. He was frazzled and distracted and not going to have the easiest time maintaining his usual composure.

Somehow, that was actually giving Connor the confidence to encourage this. Knowing that Markus needed _him_ , for once...It made Connor feel powerful and strong. He caught one of Markus’ hands and dragged it across his chest, pressing Markus’ fingers to the buttons of his shirt.

**Strip for me…** It was always a command given to him, an order followed by a dark smile as the human watched and fondled himself. This, however… this was exactly the opposite. Connor wasn't being told to pull his shirt off, but rather, he was telling Markus to do it. _He_ was making the choice, because _he_ wanted it.

**_Are you sure?_** Even as Markus asked, his fingers were pushing the top button through the hole, tugging the fabric open. Connor's eyes fluttered at the gentle brush of Markus’ fingers against his collarbone and he nodded.

Markus broke the kiss, sucking in cooler air. Connor did the same, panting to vent some of the build-up of heat in his core. Markus ducked his head, nudging Connor's chin up, licking and sucking down his throat. His fingers were still skimming over Connor's buttons, toying with each one before torturously pushing it open.

Connor moaned, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his fingers into Markus’ back. His lover was maintaining the careful descent, worshipping each new inch of Connor's skin he uncovered, setting his sensors on fire. _Markus…_ Connor fed his pleasure through their interface, squirming on the bed. He bent a leg up, needing to get closer to Markus, just as Markus rocked forward. A hard heat skimmed his knee and Markus groaned, biting gently at the skin beneath his lips.

Connor froze, immediately retreating to his mind palace. Markus was aroused. Of course Markus was aroused! _Connor_ was aroused! If Connor could push through his months of trauma to find it in him to react physically to what Markus was doing to his body, there was no way Markus would be held back.

He was scared. He didn't want to stop. Markus _needed_ him right now, and while Connor knew without a doubt that Markus would stop and back off if Connor asked, that wasn't what Markus needed. At the same time, Hank's words were echoing in his mind. _If you ever think that feeling uncomfortable is somehow okay because at least it’s only you feeling uncomfortable, you let me know. Because that’s not okay._

**_Con…_** Markus could process nearly as fast as Connor could. Retreating to his mind palace wouldn't freeze Markus in the moment. He needed to find a solution, and quickly. Markus was already pulling away from Connor's leg, lifting his mouth off Connor's skin.

Connor grabbed Markus’ shoulders and _pushed,_ flipping Markus into his back and reversing their positions. There was a flash of lightning that illuminated Markus’ surprised (scared?) eyes for just a moment before Connor leaned down to kiss him again. _I thought I told you not to stop…_

**_Your stress was rising…_ **

_Your stress is too._ Connor pulled his hands down Markus’ chest, delighting in Markus’ shiver beneath him. This was easier. He wasn't trapped. He was making these choices. He was in control. _Stop worrying about me. This is for you._

Markus caught Connor's face in his hands, pulling him back to see his face in the flashes of lightning that made his thirium pump stutter and jump beneath Connor's fingers. **_I need to know you're okay. Connor, I NEED…_**

_I'm okay._ Connor turned his face and kissed Markus’ fingers. _Is this okay?_ His hand slipped between Markus’ legs, pressing against the hardness there. Markus’ breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide as Connor drew up over his dick.

**_Con...promise me you're okay…!_** There was a beautiful desperation in Markus’ mind as Markus clawed at Connor's thoughts, searching for discomfort. **_I need to know, I need to…_**

_I'm okay._ Connor was almost laughing with relief at how honest he could be right now, opening up Markus’ search. He stroked Markus’ dick again, pressing a little firmer, feeling Markus twitch beneath him. _I'm okay, I promise._

**_Connor…_ **

_I'm here. I have you._ Connor pressed his lips to the corner of Markus’ open mouth, the edge of his jaw, the pulse in his neck. _Trust me, Markus, please trust me…_

Markus was breaking open beneath him, his control and composure shredding with every shift of Connor's hands. He bit his lip, whining softly, and Connor felt the tension snap. Markus moved, rocking up as Connor stroked down, giving in to what Connor was offering him, _could_ offer him.

**_I love you…_ **

_Love you too, Markus, so much…_ Connor nipped at Markus’ throat and touched his tongue to the white plastic before Markus’ skin could reform. Markus gasped, reaching up, his hands finding Connor's bare chest. Connor's shirt was hanging open between them, swaying with every brush of Markus’ body as he rocked up off the bed.

Connor wanted more. He wanted to push his hand beneath Markus’ pants and touch him fully. He wanted to peel Markus’ clothes away and press his lips to every inch of his synthetic skin. He wanted to know what Markus’ chest tasted like, his back, his thighs. Connor _wanted_.

But Connor knew better. Markus’ hands were on his skin, pressing hard enough to banish the synthetic skin. Connor's body was heating up even with his heavy breathing. Markus was too desperate beneath him. Connor could feel him unraveling, his words dissolving into feelings of **_want_** and **_need_** and **_good_** and **_yes_**. Connor was scared, and he was pulling Markus to the edge far too fast for Markus to take over. Tonight was for Markus. Connor pushed his wants aside and caught one of Markus’ moans, biting at his lips and tongue.

_I've got you,_ Connor whispered. Markus’ hand pushed up around his sides, clutching at his back. _I'm right here, Markus, I'm right here. You're not alone anymore. I have you. Everything is going to be okay…_

Markus was feeding Connor waves upon waves of pleasure, feelings and sensations Connor had never known existed. He was panting heavily into Connor's mouth, his pulse racing, body twisting and throbbing beneath Connor's hands. Connor could feel what Markus needed, giving a twist and a tug that had Markus shatter in his mind, their entire world whiting out.

Connor felt the change in texture beneath his fingers, how Markus’ sweatpants slid much more easily over his dick now. Markus’ mind was still a silent white blanket of static, and Connor had to laugh softly against his cheek. “Still with me?” he asked, rolling to his side so he could curl against Markus’ arm.

Markus blinked, letting his head loll to the side to watch Connor. “I love you…”

Connor smiled, small and sincere. He traced his fingers over Markus’ face, feeling his lover's eyes close. Out of curiosity, he scanned the other android.

_Stress level: 0%_

In all the time Connor had known Markus, the other android had never been stress-free. The lowest Connor had seen him was in the high teens one time when he was with Carl. Zero stress was unheard of for Markus Manfred.

And Connor had been the one to get him there.

“Mmm…” Markus rolled into his side to face Connor, opening his eyes and returning the face tracing. “Do you...need?”

Connor hesitated, biting his lip, but then he shook his head. Markus was so loose and happy right now. Connor wanted to bask in his lover's afterglow. He didn't want to think about his own dick, or Markus touching him, or _anyone_ touching him. “This was for you,” he murmured. “I'm fine.”

“Sure?” Markus asked. Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled. Markus’ stress remained zero.

Connor smiled, wrapping his arms around Markus and tugging him close. Markus came easily, settling against Connor's shoulder, one arm looped over his waist. “I'm sure,” Connor murmured, stroking Markus’ short hair. “I have all I need right here.”


	4. Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus is a pillar of strength and determination... but when it comes to Connor, he folds like a cheap shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely art here was made by Doomburger on the Discord server! Go check out more art at doomburgerdoodles.tumblr.com!

Connor woke up with a full charge and empty arms. He didn’t know why this was so disappointing at first, but he took a breath, automatically cataloguing the scent of new flannel and Markus’ thirium and fresh paint, and he remembered. _Markus._ He was in Markus’ bed, with Markus in his arms last night.

There was a skritch skritch of a brush swiping across canvas behind him. Connor rolled over, stretching out his limbs beneath the warm flannel sheets. Markus glanced around his easel and smiled warmly. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Sunshine?” Connor sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. That was a new name. His shirt was hanging open. Connor's hands automatically went to the buttons, doing them up efficiently.

Markus tipped his smile toward his canvas, humming softly as he resumed painting. “You chased away the storm last night. Thank you.”

Connor opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say. He nodded, tracing a violently purple petal on the sheets. “I’m just glad I could be of some comfort.”

Markus hummed again, focused on his art. “You are always a comfort.”

“What are you painting?” Connor could get up and look for himself, but beneath the flannel sheets, his legs were bare. He had pulled his jeans off last night, as they were soaked through with the rain and Markus had specifically asked him to not be wet. Last night it had been easy to strip away the denim and climb into Markus’ bed, but this morning it was much, much harder.

“You.” Markus’ eyes slid to Connor again, still with that same warm smile. “You’re so different when you’re asleep.”

“I don’t see how.” Connor tucked the blankets around him. He was still wearing his underwear and his shirt, but he felt exposed. His jeans weren’t beside the bed anymore.

No sooner had a flicker of stress sparked within him then did Markus set down his brush. He rose from behind the easel and went to his closet, pulling out some sweatpants and offering them to Connor. “Your jeans are in the laundry. They were still wet, so I put them in the dryer when I woke up.”

“Either you know me too well, or I am not as subtle as I think.” Connor accepted the pants with a smile. He caught Markus’ shirt before the other android could move away, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. “Good morning Markus.”

“Little bit of both,” Markus teased, his tacky hand smoothing over Connor’s face. “Good morning...oops.”

“What color this time?” Connor asked, wiggling his mouth to flex his cheeks and making the drying paint stretch and crack.

“It’s mostly raw umber.” Markus licked his thumb and rubbed at the smear he’d left behind. “With a touch of burnt sienna. There. All gone.”

“You are, without a doubt, the messiest android I know.”

“Carl says there’s no passion if you don’t have paint flying everywhere.”

“And you say _Hank_ is the bad influence!”

Markus chuckled as he moved back around his easel. Connor pushed the sweatpants beneath the blankets and tugged them on. He felt better for having the extra layer. Only then did he swing his legs over the side of the bed and stand up.

When he stretched again, he could feel Markus’ eyes on him. Connor bit his lip and stretched his arms up and back, letting his shirt ride up just a little, arching his back…

“ _Tease._ ”

“Only for you.” Connor let his arms drop and padded around to lean against Markus’ back, his chin resting on his lover’s shoulder, arms settling around his waist. Markus tipped his head to the side to lean against Connor’s, his brush still smoothing shadows over the form he had coaxed out of the blank canvas and pigments.

There were no details to the shapes, only color and shadow, but somehow Connor recognized himself on Markus’ bed. He was slightly on his left side, the curve of his back exposed by the blankets around his waist. His left arm was tucked beneath his own head, fingers just visible beneath his hair, and his right arm was outstretched into the empty void of half the piece, fingers curled, tips white. He was reaching for Markus.

Whatever expression Markus had meant him to have was hard to make out. Connor's face was made up of light and shadows, but he thought it looked peaceful. The whole scene looked peaceful. Markus had clearly been experimenting with how he painted light, as a warming glow from the morning sun illuminated Connor's form and glittered in his hair.

“How does it make you feel?” Markus asked. He flicked his brush, the slightest shadow on Connor's temple calling out the location of his LED.

"Warm.” Markus liked Connor to answer immediately, to voice the first words in his mind. Connor had a tendency to overthink his emotions and doubt his own feelings. By not letting himself think, he could be more honest with Markus. “Lethargic, but not tired. Just...lazy?” He reached over Markus’ shoulder, his fingers getting caught by the end of Markus’ brush and batted away before he could touch the wet paint. “Unfinished. You're missing.”

Markus hummed again, setting his palette aside. He caught Connor's cheek to kiss him again, their mouths sliding together, warm and lazy, finishing the piece. They both fed their contentedness back and forth, letting it build in slow, billowing waves.

**_I have work to do today._ **

_I know._ Simon kept Connor abreast of Markus’ schedule. The older android was always busy.

**_I don't want to._ **

_Maybe I shouldn't spend nights here._

**_Don't even joke about that!_** Markus’ arms tightened around Connor as if the other android was about to disappear.

Connor laughed between their minds, breaking the kiss to touch his cheek to Markus’. He could feel Markus’ breathing, steady and deep. His heart was beating too slow for Connor to sync his to. He liked it when their hearts beat in unison.

_I love you._

Whenever he said it while they interfaced, he could feel the wash of emotion sweep over Markus. Markus never tried to hide it from him, this intense happiness and devotion that Connor's three words could trigger.

**_I love you too._ **

Connor was getting better at not tamping down on his own emotional response. Markus’ words made this thirium pump flutter erratically, disbelief and gratitude warring for dominance.

_I don't know why._

**_Do I need a reason?_ **

Their mouths met again. Responsibilities and duties melted into the morning sun. Markus was here. Connor was here. That was all that mattered.

**_Incoming call: #369 911 329…_ **

Connor laughed as he felt Simon's call into Markus’ mind. He drew back to kiss the crease between Markus’ eyes as Simon gave him a half hour warning.

“You need to get washed up.” Connor caught one of Markus’ hands and kissed his fingertips. “Can't change the world with paint on your skin.”

“Watch me.” Markus tweaked Connor's nose before reluctantly pushing away. He was still dressed in his loose sleep clothes, so he went to the closet for his usual “rebel leader” look.

Connor watched and frowned, turning away. “I, uh, guess I'll be heading out.” He didn't want to be here when Markus got changed. He _did_...but he didn't. He hated his own confusion.

“Wait.” Markus caught his arm and then caught his waist, tugging him in for a kiss that nearly involved their full bodies. “Be careful.”

“ _I_ don't have to work today.” Connor had a completely dopey smile on his face, he was sure.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in.” Markus hugged Connor before letting him go. “Come back soon?”

“Tomorrow,” Connor said. He looked Markus up and down, that paint-splattered shirt, loose pants, bare feet… “Maybe tonight.”

Markus grinned and stepped back. “I'll call you when I'm free.”

“You be careful too.”

“Always am!”

Connor felt a little self-conscious heading out in Markus’ sweatpants, but no one seemed to notice. His own jacket hid his hopelessly wrinkled shirt.

North was sitting on the wall around Jericho. She raised an eyebrow as he exited. “How's he doing?”

“Better.” Connor stopped and faced her, pulling a coin from his pocket and rolling it across his knuckles. “You're right. He was a mess last night.”

“Fearless leader can't let us know he's scared of storms.” North's smile was soft. She'd been relaxing more and more around Connor. Hank said it was all his influence. Connor suspected it was more because North kept stealing his socks. “Thanks for helping him.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Speaking of helping…” North tilted her head to the side and down, managing to look up through her lashes at him despite being higher than he was. It was a familiar expression, one Connor had seen a thousand times but never directed at him. It was North's male-manipulator face.

Connor wasn't sure why it had such a high success rate. Of course North was attractive when she did it, but that was because North was always attractive. She was designed to be heart-stoppingly beautiful, but she was no Markus.

Still, his relationship with North was warming up, and Hank whole-heartedly approved of her. She was practically family at this point, albeit prickly, angry family. “Of course. What did you need?”

“I downloaded some new skill protocols, but they aren't loading properly. I've tried three times and can't get them to work. They don't seem to be corrupted. As far as I can tell, all the data is there. It's just not mapping properly.”

Connor frowned slightly. “I'm happy to try, but wouldn't that be more Josh's area of expertise?”

“He looked it over last time I downloaded it and said everything was fine and they should work on my system, so we don't know where the problem is.”

“If Josh can’t find the problem-”

“They're installed by default on RK800 models.”

“ _Ah_.” That made so much more sense.

“I was hoping we could run through them together, and you could help me figure out where it's going wrong?”

“Absolutely. Which protocols are they?”

North extended her hand down and Connor accepted it. She opened up to him--not fully, just one folder--and he flipped through the protocols quickly. Suspect pursuit and apprehension? Three thousand ways to subdue an opponent?

“You just want an excuse to get me in a headlock,” Connor accused with a smile.

“Once I get these figured out, I am absolutely going for your interrogator skills next.” North's grin was viciously sweet. “What are your intentions with my Markus!? Tell me, asshole!”

“I'm only modeling, I swear!” Connor laughed, releasing North's hand. “When did you want to do this?”

“Today? Now?” North hopped off the wall and sauntered up to his side. “Judging by the time and your lack of urgency, I'm guessing you have the day off.”

“Seriously, look into the police academy. You'll make Hank so proud.”

“Eh.” North shrugged, looking away to hide her little smile but not before Connor saw it. “I don't know. It's stupid.”

“You'd be a role model for androids everywhere. More than me. I was made for this role. You'd be earning it.”

North's shoulders hunched slightly. Connor knew she liked the idea, but he also knew she had a world of hangups. He could absolutely empathize. All he and Hank could do was keep encouraging gently.

“I need to get back and let Sumo out, leave a note for Hank, and get changed. After that, though, my day is free.”

“Can I come?”

“Hank won't be awake,” Connor warned her. “But yeah, of course.”

As they walked through Detroit, North pointed at Connor's coin. “I tried to find the protocol for that. No luck. How do you do it?”

“Do you have a coin on you?” Connor asked. “Do you know how to flip it?”

By the time they reached the Anderson house, North was able to flip and catch the coin in one hand. Connor demonstrated how to pop the coin from his palm, and North worked on that skill while letting Sumo out in the backyard. Connor got changed into something fairly casual: jeans and a t-shirt. He had a feeling he was going to be thrown to the ground a lot today.

When he emerged from his room, North was in the kitchen fixing the coffee maker to be ready for whenever Hank woke up. Connor smiled. Hank still had the original post-it note from North stuck to the side of the fridge.

“Shut up,” she grumbled. “You were taking too long. I needed something to do.”

“Want to see if he's awake?”

North grinned and scowled and then tentatively gave a little smile. Connor smiled back gently. “I know. There's no rational reason for him to make us feel safe, and yet…”

“He's like Markus,” North said. “He respects us. He's not like Markus in that he hates everyone instead of loves everyone, but he still respects us as people first.”

Connor tilted his head to the side as he considered it, then nodded. “Yes...I can see that.”

The two androids crept up to Hank's door, avoiding the creaky floorboards. Connor pressed his ear to the wood, listening for the deep breathing and soft snores. He nodded to North and eased the door open.

Hank was fast asleep in his bed, mouth hanging open as he snored. One arm was dangling off the bed, fingers just barely enough to keep a book open.

Connor carefully picked up the book and marked Hank's spot, then set it on the nightstand. North tugged on his blankets, straightening them out some. Connor picked up Hank's arm and lifted it back on the bed.

“Fucking androids, thinking you're being all sneaky.” Hank cracked an eye open, his voice still thick with sleep. “Haven't you heard fake snoring before?”

“You can go back to sleep,” Connor soothed. “We just wanted to check that you were okay before going out.”

“Damn right I can go back to sleep on a day off,” Hank grumbled, rolling over and twisting up the sheets North had just smoothed out. “You didn't come back last night. Didn't call.”

“I'm sorry. Markus was in distress and needed me to spend the night at Jericho.”

Hank snorted into his pillow. “Yeah? Is that what they're calling it these days, Bub?”

“Connor insists it was platonic, but we know better.” North fixed Hank's blankets again.

“And you, sweetheart.” Hank opened an eye again, grabbing North's wrist. “Academy?”

“Not this year,” North said. The simple fact that she was allowing Hank to hold her wrist spoke volumes on how much she loved him. “Maybe next year. Connor's going to teach me some tricks today.”

“That's my girl. Boy. Kids.” Hank yawned and snuggled deeper into his pillow, completely missing the matched smiles Connor and North shot at each other. “Try not to kill anyone and fuck off. It's too goddamn early to be a dad.”

North bent over, holding her braid back as she brushed a kiss against Hank's grizzled cheek. “Enjoy your sleep, Dad.”

“Coffee's ready whenever you get up.” Connor took North's hand and gave her a tug away from the bed. Hank was hiding a smile in his pillow. Connor could tell from how his cheek wrinkled. He touched a finger to his lips and opened the door.

Sumo bounded in and jumped on the bed.

“ARRRRGH, CONNOR, YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT!”

Connor and North ducked out of the house laughing. They could hear Sumo's happy boofs settle down as Hank adjusted to the dog in his bed.

“You're horrible,” North told Connor as they started walking again.

Connor shrugged. “A bit of excitement keeps him young.”

“That is not factually true.”

“Nope. But it's fun.” Connor smiled a little. “I like having fun with him. He gets angry to cover the fact that he's so proud.”

“Yeah…” North sighed, pulling out the coin and practicing flipping and popping it again. “I like making him proud.”

“Me too.”

Connor let North lead him to a shipping yard with plenty of containers to run around and hide behind. He tucked his coin away and stretched his arms. “Okay, so...why don't we start with an easy one?”

“They are _all_ fucked up. Define easy.”

“PCH9896?”

North nodded. “Okay. Show me how it's supposed to go.”

“Come here. Turn around.” Connor positioned North about three feet in front of him, back to him. “All right. This would ordinarily be used at the end of a chase to apprehend a suspect fleeing on foot on relatively level and smooth ground. Pavements, yards, parks, building interiors...not ideal for hills or stairs. We'll pretend I've been chasing you, and when I'm this far away…” Connor strode forward, engaging the routine. He grabbed North's arm, yanking he back and off balance, sweeping his leg out and quickly tipping her to the ground, his arm pinning her shoulders down. “You're under arrest.”

“You make it look so easy!” North scowled and slapped his arm. “Let me try!”

Connor switched his pin to a helping hand, hauling North to her feet. He turned his back on her, pretending to run.

“Okay, so I grab and _ACK!_ ” North grabbed his arm and pulled, twisting to the side like Connor had, but she went the wrong way and collided with him instead, tangling their legs and falling to the ground.

“What was that supposed to be?” Connor laughed as he shook North free of his sleeve and helped her up again. “PCH9896, remember?”

“That's what I did!”

“It can't be. Do it again, but use the right one.”

North did it again: exactly the same as before. This time, Connor overbalanced and fell too.

“Okay, wait, show me which one you're using. Maybe they're labeled wrong?”

North huffed and clasped Connor's arm, letting him check her protocols again. He found her PCH9896 and checked it against his. The code was identical.

“Huh. That's...weird.”

“Is it because we're different sizes?”

“They shouldn't affect these. CyberLife works in adjustments to all their codes right from the start.”

“ _Something_ is going wrong!”

In the end, it took them the better part of three hours and 87 protocols before Connor realized the pattern. “...North?”

“ _What!?_ ” North's braid was a flyaway mess and her expression was one of determined fury.

Connor mimed one of the failed routines and nodded to himself. “You, uh...you have your hands backwards.”

“Excuse me?”

Connor featured again. “When you do these, your opposite hand is moving. Same with your feet. I don't...your wiring must be backwards.”

“My wiring is _not_ backwards!”

“Look, just do PCA7638.” Connor went through the gestures. North did the same. Their hands moved in opposite directions. “See?”

“You have got to be kidding me…”

“This is definitely very bizarre,” Connor said. “Usually CyberLife's models are interchangeable at the basic levels, but maybe you're-”

“Oh no, you hold on right there!” North shook a finger at Connor. “I can't be backwards. I've downloaded protocols before without any issues. _You_ must be the backwards one!”

“I am a state of the art-”

“Prototype!” North started cackling. “You're a prototype not made by Kamski! Someone fucked up and crossed your wires!”

Connor blinked and frowned. “Let me see your schematics…”

A quick comparison revealed that North was right. The wires to Connor's hands and feet were in the opposite connectors as North's.

“Have you ever tried downloading protocols from other models?” North asked.

“Yes, and they worked just fine, but…”

“But?” North prompted.

“...none of them had hand or foot movements.”

North just laughed. “Okay, so, I'm not crazy. These protocols _are_ screwed up.”

“Or you're screwed up.”

“But they just have backward hands and feet, right? I can work with that! It’s just a matter of remapping the protocols…” North furrowed her brow, focusing on the code. “Okay, let’s try again!”

By the time the sun was setting, North had worked through the bulk of her new protocols, fixing and tweaking the coding to suit her wiring instead of Connor’s. She was currently testing it out, chasing Connor through the crates while he used every skill he had to evade her pursuit. He ran straight at a stack of shipping containers, springing off the ground and scrambling up the sides. North was hot on his heels, but as he made it to the top, she grabbed with the wrong hand and screamed as she fell back.

“North!” Connor lunged, the chase abandoned in favor of grabbing for North’s arm. He caught her coat, and she swung her other hand up to grab his wrist. Crisis averted, he hauled her up on top of the crates.

“Damn it. Looks like you’re still better at this.” North sulked, stomping to the edge of the crate and sitting cross-legged, her arms folded.

“You’ve come a long way in a day,” Connor said, trying to soothe her. “Especially considering the whole crossed wires thing!”

“I still can’t believe you’re miswired!” North grinned sideways at Connor, her pout forgotten.

“You shouldn’t make fun of someone’s abnormalities,” Connor sniffed.

North chuckled and unfolded her arms, patting the metal beside her. “Sunset’s beautiful tonight.”

“There are a lot of particulates in the air, which…” Connor trailed off as North rolled her eyes. “Sunset _is_ beautiful tonight.”

“Come on, Connor. You’re married to an artist. How is appreciating beauty not a thing with you?”

Connor could feel the shimmer of his skin projection changing, an indication that his face was flushed. “You consider us married?”

“Con, you live and breathe Markus, and he does you. You two are always seeking each other out in your free time, supporting each other, loving each other… what other definition of married would you use? I don’t need to know the actual definition. I can google just as well as you, asshole. The only way you could be _more_ married is if you actually moved in together.” North shrugged. “Pros and cons to that. The rooms are tiny, but the sex would be more frequent.”

Connor couldn’t watch the sunset. He was rubbing his hands together, staring at his fingers. “North… personal question?”

Personal questions were something North had started while they were sharing a hotel room. She had frowned one night and asked how androids could be roofied. Connor had ended up explaining the Eden routine to her, feeling very distant and detached from himself. She’d taken his hand and squeezed it, and somehow, that ended her open animosity.

Connor had asked her a personal question about the Eden Club a few weeks later, and North had retaliated with a question about living with Hank. Personal questions didn’t have to be answered, but they could not give offense. They were genuine queries from a pair of androids struggling to make sense of their lives.

North asked more personal questions than Connor did, but Connor tried to answer every one. North would sometimes shut him out when he asked a question, but she usually returned within a few days with an answer. Connor appreciated her willingness to help him understand what Cunningham had put him through in that room.

“Shoot.” North kept her eyes focused on the sunset. It was easier that way.

Connor took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Have you ever… since your deviancy… have you ever had sex?”

There was a heavy silence between them. Connor knew that just by asking the question, he had revealed more about his relationship with Markus than anyone apparently anticipated.

“Yeah,” North finally said. “Once. Well. It was with Markus. It wasn’t like… before.”

“What was it like?” Connor hooked his fingers together and pulled. “Not the _with Markus_ , you don’t have to go into detail about that, just… to want it? To want him to do that to you?”

“I didn’t.” North gave a bitter laugh. The metal creaked beneath her fingers. “Want it.”

“ _What?_ ” Connor tried not to look at North when she revealed intimate secrets, just as she tried not to look at him, but he couldn’t help himself this time. His head snapped around, a mute feeling of horror sparking in his chest at the thought of North being forced to endure _again…_ and at Markus’ hands!? “Did Markus assault you…!?”

“ _No!_ ” North shook her head, braid swishing against her back. “No. If anything, _I_ assaulted _him_. And we didn’t…” She sighed. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t really sex. Not like inserting… you know.”

Connor did know. He knew the myriad of ways an android’s body could be violated by a human’s. He looked away again.

“It was the day before we met you, actually. The movement was spiraling so big, and Markus was so stressed. I found him secreted away in one of Jericho’s small rooms, just staring at the wall and flexing his fingers. His stress levels…” North shook her head, making her braid swish against her back again. “We _needed_ Markus. I don’t think anyone doubted that, but I don’t know how many realized why.”

“Why?” Connor prompted. His experience with Markus during the revolution was unique. Markus had coaxed his deviancy into the open, but Markus hadn’t triggered it. By the time Connor joined Jericho, the movement was already under way. Connor didn’t fully understand how it had gotten started.

“Up until that point, androids didn’t just _wake up_ ,” North explained. “We were all so severely emotionally damaged that we _had_ to come to life just to survive. We were abused and vicious. Markus wasn’t like that. Markus had been sheltered and, in many ways, completely spoiled. He was taught life by a human, not shoved into it by trauma. And yes, he has his own demons from his first night of life, but… he knew that humans could love androids. He knew androids could love humans. He was able to look past his anger and fear and pain and give humans a chance. None of the rest of us could do that. We’d all been so hurt. We could trust _him_ , and he could trust _them_ , and that was how he managed to broker a peace that none of the rest of us could even imagine.” North lifted a hand to her face, brushing at tears. Connor said nothing. “If we lost Markus, we lost _everything_. There was no one who could replace him. Josh was too placid. Simon was too defensive. I was too aggressive. So when I saw Markus with his stress levels near 85% and climbing… I had to do something. If Markus self-destructed, we were all dead.”

Connor continued to stay silent, but he reached over and put his hand on North’s. He didn’t look at her, but he kept the contact as a means of support.

“I swallowed my fear and pulled up my Eden Club training. Didn’t even give him a chance to say anything, just went in there and kissed him.” North smiled. “Markus is an _amazing_ kisser.” Connor nodded his agreement.

“I don't think he even knew what was happening. I had him on the ground and shirtless pretty quickly, grinding in his lap. He was…” She laughed dully. “Well, his stress levels were dropping. I took his hands and pushed them in my shirt, made him grab my boobs...And he stopped.”

North shifted on the container, drawing her knees up and resting her chin against them. “He pushed me back enough to break the kiss and he _looked_ at me the way he does, like he can see right through you without needing to interface, and he just asked… ‘Why are you doing this? You don't want this...why?’”

“He’s good at that,” Connor agreed, remembering Markus stopping him in a rusted out bridge of a sunken ship.

North nodded. Her hand was still beneath Connor's. “I tried to spin some bullshit about needing him to relax, and he said…” She used her free hand to swipe at her face again. Though she wasn't crying, her eyes were tearing up. Connor squeezed her fingers.

“He said ‘Using you like a doll will do the exact opposite of relax me.’ And he took his hands away and forced me to keep my distance in his lap and…” She laughed. “He gave me a back rub and we just sat together, holding each other and interfacing and being honest about probably facing our deaths and...it was the most intimate and rewarding experience I've ever had with a man. It wasn't _sex_ sex, but...I counted it.” North turned her hand over to hold Connor's back, looking sideways at him. “Probably not what you were after, huh?”

“No, not really. But I'm glad he took care of you.”

“He'll take care of you too, Connor. He loves you. It's different with you than it was with me. Just the way he looks at you. You settle him.”

“I know.” Connor sighed, looking out at the sunset again. “I know he'll take care of me. He _has_ taken care of me. But I'm just...I get so scared. I'm back in that room and mistaking him for Cunningham and it just…” He closed his eyes. “Panic attacks really dampen the mood.”

North's weight leaned against his side. Connor shook his hand out of hers to drape his arm over her shoulders.

“Personal question?”

“You can ask me anything, North.”

“How far _have_ you gone with him?”

“Ah…” Somehow, that was the most personal question North had ever asked him. Connor's synthetic skin was still flushed, and his free hand twitched into his pocket for his coin. “We've...um…”

“What base?”

Connor ran a few quick searches in his head. It didn't clarify things all that much, as there were varying definitions, but… “I think second? Manual stimulation over clothes?”

“You make sex sound so unsexy,” North teased. “Have you gotten him shirtless?”

Connor shook his head. “I… no. He's changed while I'm in the room before, but I can't bring myself to look.”

“That is a _shame_. Markus Manfred's naked torso could make angels weep.” North nudged Connor's side with her elbow. “You should try that sometime.”

Connor sighed. “I freeze up inside.”

“Don't make it sexual,” North suggested. “Next time you catch him painting, tell him to take his shirt off so he doesn't ruin another one. Tell him to keep painting, so his focus isn't on you. Then just _admire_. A naked chest isn't going to hurt you. It's not like he can fuck you with his nipples.”

“You make not-sex sound so crude.” Connor was not trying to imagine Markus fucking someone with his nipples. North giggled at his side, so Connor jostled her.

“I'm sorry I don't have any real advice,” North sighed as the brilliant reds and oranges of the sunset faded into muted purples and pinks. “I haven't found anyone I trusted so much myself to let my guard down.”

“I do trust him, though,” Connor murmured. “That's what I hate. I trust him and I trust him and then suddenly I can't and everything snaps and falls apart.”

“I'm assuming you're interfacing this whole time?” Connor nodded. “Maybe...I don't actually _know,_ Con, I'm just thinking out loud, but maybe...don't? So you can't feel his desire? Interfacing when you're emotional can be very overwhelming.”

Connor shook his head. “I need him in my head to keep me out of my memories.”

“Hmm…” North stretched out her legs, letting her feet fall over the edge of the container. “What if you get him in the vulnerable position?”

“I don't want to hurt Markus!”

“No, not like that, just...he's naked and you're clothed sort of thing. If you have more of the power, maybe it won't be so triggering?”

Connor looked dully at North. “Do you think that's all it would take for _you_ to trust again?”

“...No.” North sighed. “Start by getting him shirtless and see where things go from there? It can't hurt, right?”

“I guess not…”

North nudged Connor again. “Hey. If I find a magic bullet that makes sex work, I'll let you know.”

“Why would it be a bull… nevermind. I'll let you know if I find something too.”

“Just...not in front of Hank.”

Connor shook his head quickly. “I don't think he has any desire in listening to this sort of discussion.”

“You going to go home tonight, or stay with Markus again?”

“I should probably stay at home tonight. But I'll visit Markus first.”

“Excellent! North grinned at Connor. “Because I can tell you that Markus blocked off his evening to work on an oversized piece for the housing complex, which means he's at Carl's. Painting in that big studio. All alone…”

Connor side-eyed North. “You _really_ want me to get him shirtless.”

“You will thank me afterwards.”

The sun had well and truly set by the time Connor walked North back to Jericho. She could take care of herself, of course, but companionship for a beautiful woman on the streets of Detroit after dark was always a smart choice. Connor bid her a good night at the gates and hailed an autocab to go to Carl's house.

Before Connor could ring the bell, the huge front door swung open. “Alarm deactivated. Welcome home, Connor.” His mind stuttered briefly, and a stupid little smile fought to spread across his face. Markus had added him to the security system?

The doors to the main sitting room slid open and Thomas emerged. “Hello, Connor! Welcome back!”

“Hello Thomas.” Connor did smile at the cheerful android who looked after Markus’ father for him. “Is Markus here? North said he would be.”

“Markus is in the studio. He asked me to send you in.”

“Thanks.” Connor followed Thomas into the back.

Markus was painting, as North had promised. His canvas was huge, a twelve foot square, and Markus was currently using Carl’s lift to paint the top. He glanced down when Connor came in, a bright smile lighting up his face as their eyes met. “Connor! I wasn't expecting you here.”

“North told me I needed to watch you paint.”

“Oh did she?”

Thomas cleared his throat. “I'm going to...check on Carl. Thank you, Markus, for explaining your thoughts as you made this.”

“Huh? Oh, but Carl will be asleep after his eight pm dose-”

“I'm going to check on him anyway!” Thomas pressed his hands against Connor's back, pushing Connor closer. “You two have fun! I'll make sure you're not disturbed by anything!”

“Why would we…?” Markus’ eyes widened just as realization hit Connor too. Connor ducked his head, pressing his face in his hands. Thomas was already out the door.

“We are not subtle,” Connor mumbled.

“Neither is he…” Markus was laughing as he lowered the lift and stood on his own feet again. “They think it's sweet.”

“They?”

“The androids of Jericho. And Thomas.” Markus set his palette aside and crossed the room to catch Connor in a kiss. “Hi. Us. They think we're sweet.”

“North said we were all but married.”

“Did she?” Markus lifted one of Connor's hands to his lips, pressing a kiss over his ring finger. “I can't say I've given it much thought myself, but I can see why our people would want it.”

“Why would it it matter to them?” Connor asked.

“Because a year ago, it was impossible.” Markus stepped in close, his arm folding around Connor's waist. Connor tucked against his chest, using his hands as a buffer between his own clothes and the fresh stains on Markus’. “We were only just starting to convince people that we had emotions at all, much less _the_ emotion. Love. Marriage is a formal declaration of love, in front of an audience. Humans put a lot of value in it...but there has not been a single android marriage.”

“And they'd want us to marry because you are our fearless leader.”

“And you are our indomitable hope. We're their fairy tale, Connor.”

Connor looked into Markus’ mismatched eyes, warm and soft and focused entirely on him. “They don't see the truth.” Even North, one of their closest confidants, hadn't realized how little had actually transpired between them.

“They don't need to. They just need to have faith that such a love is possible, and it's possible for them too, even with their mechanical hearts.” Markus touched his forehead to Connor's. Connor closed his eyes. “I love you, trauma and all.”

“I still don't know why,” Connor whispered.

“Do I need a reason?”

Connor took a deep breath and pulled back. “Could you…?”

“Yes?”

Connor looked around, looked at the painting, looked at Markus. “Could you...take your shirt off?”

“My shirt?” Markus blinked, but then he reached behind him, grabbing his shirt collar and tugging it over his head. “Yeah, why?”

“Because I really need to hug you properly, but I like my shirt without paint.” Connor didn't look as Markus dropped his shirt to the ground, just stepped forward again, clutching at Markus’ back and pressing his face into Markus’ neck. His thirium pump was racing, stress levels abnormally high for being in Markus’ arms.

Markus dusted kisses across Connor's hair, his arms solid and familiar. Connor focused on breathing, taking in Markus' scent, breaking it down and analyzing every component.

“You don't have to force anything,” Markus murmured. “I can feel how tense you are.”

“North said it was a shame that I'd never seen you shirtless. She told me to ask you to take it off next time you were painting.” Focusing on Markus always helped soothe Connor. He could start to turn his attention to his other inputs, like how smooth Markus’ back was beneath his fingers. “I...didn't expect it to be that easy. _You_ to be that easy...”

“ _Easy…!?_ ” Markus’ jaw dropped in mock indignation against Connor's head, and then he laughed. “I...didn't even think about it, to be honest. You asked for something I could do, so I did it.” He tugged Connor's face away to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “I guess that does make me easy, when it comes to you.”

“Sap,” Connor murmured. He kissed Markus again, then once more for good measure. Markus crushed him close, but Connor didn't mind. He held Markus just as tightly.

They had a room to themselves and no pressing demands on their time. As it was wont to do, their kiss grew deeper. Connor closed his eyes and let himself drown in Markus’ mouth, his warmth, his hands that skimmed down to Connor's hips and settled there like they belonged. Markus gave a soft murmur and stepped forward. Connor stepped back. He put his trust in Markus and let himself be slowly nudged into a wall.

Markus nipped at Connor's lower lip and shifted against him. One shoulder pressed into Connor's, one knee between his, but there was no pressure from chest to thighs. Markus was curving his body away from Connor's. He was being considerate, as always.

Connor felt oddly disappointed.

Breathing deep and tasting nothing but Markus, Connor dragged his fingers down Markus’ bare back. The sculpted muscle was already familiar, but without the padding of a shirt, Connor could clearly make out the lines of Markus’ back, feel the individual plates beneath the skin. Markus grinned against Connor's lips as Connor's hands slipped into the back pockets of Markus’ jeans, loosely cupping his ass. Connor rubbed his thumbs over the rough denim. This was Markus. Markus wore jeans or loose cotton pants. His body was firm beneath Connor's touch, hard plastic covered with soft skin. This was not Cunningham. This would never again be Cunningham.

Markus coaxed Connor's tongue into his mouth, sucking gently on the highly sensitive component. Connor groaned and shivered and pulled forward, grinding Markus’ hips into his own. Markus sucked in a breath, breaking the kiss to give a shaky moan, his forehead dropping to Connor's shoulder. Connor was shivering, but from fear or pleasure even _he_ didn't know. He knew he was aroused. He knew Markus felt good. That was about all he could focus on for the moment.

“Con…”

“I love you…”

Markus mouthed sloppy kisses over Connor's neck, his own body trembling slightly in Connor's hold. He seemed to be trying to hold himself still, letting Connor remain in control even while backed against a wall.

Connor couldn't move. He had Markus pressed up against him, holding him in place, and he couldn't bring himself to do anything more. He could feel the hardness between Markus’ legs against his own, triggering sensors he never thought could feel so good. Markus’ mouth was worshipping at his neck, Markus’ heart was pounding alongside his, Markus’ fingers were digging into and flexing against his hips.

Connor couldn't move.

 

There was a despair swelling within him, frustrating pricking at his eyes. He wasn't even stuck in that room! He _knew_ where he was. He _knew_ who he was with. He _wanted_ Markus! He grit his teeth, tipping his head forward.

At his throat, Markus stopped. He prodded at Connor's mind, the skin peeling away wherever they had contact. Connor welcomed him in gratefully.

**_You're tensing up…_ **

_Help…_

**_How?_** Markus combed through Connor's mind, trying to find what was triggering him. **_I can…_** He tried to lean away, but Connor clamped down tight, forcing Markus to stay where he was.

_I want this. I DO. I just…_

Markus was still, considering. Connor could feel him preconstructing several outcomes, always a risky endeavor when dealing with another living being, but still one of Markus’ specialities.

**_Can you trust me?_ **

_Yes._

**_Will you tell me if you need to stop? Can I trust you?_ **

_...yes…_

Markus lifted his head and kissed Connor's mouth. He took his time working his way in, even though Connor never needed much coaxing anymore to get Markus on his tongue. As Connor's sensors exploded with the taste of Markus, Markus’ fingers crept up from his hips, dipping beneath Connor's shirt and smoothing along his sides. Connor continued to shiver and clutch Markus close.

**_Dance with me…_ **

There was no music here except the drumbeat of their hearts, but clearly that was enough for Markus. His fingers stretched behind Connor, thumbs on his chest, and he started to sway. In and out, in and out, little undulations against Connor's entire body.

It was a simple, easy request. They'd danced together a thousand times before. A single tear broke loose and rolled down Connor's cheek as he let Markus guide the rhythm. Their bodies rolled together, gentle thrusts and waves of _good_. Markus kept a shield around the core of Connor's being, deflecting the strongest pulses of need away and letting them both revel in the simple pleasure of rocking against each other, lips and tongues sliding together, swallowing soft murmurs of pleasure.

Connor almost didn't even recognize his orgasm when he came. It wasn't forced from a perversion of his code but a wash of _relief_ , a release of the building tension. Markus kissed his damp cheeks and tried to pull back, but Connor held him in place again. “Please…” He opened his eyes, the lashes sticky with his drying tears, and found a smile for his lover, soft and easy. “I want to feel you too.”

“You are so beautiful right now,” Markus whispered. His voice was soft and reverent, eyes focused on Connor's again. “You have no idea… I want to watch you like this forever.”

“You'll be able to.” Connor squeezed his fingers where they were still tucked into Markus’ jeans, feeling the answering shudder and thrust and smiling. “I have no intention of going anywhere.”

“I love you.” Markus pushed his hips in. Connor moaned, his eyes fluttering as his sensitive dick slid against the slick mess in his pants. Markus caught his lips on another kiss, brushing their minds together before letting go in a gentle rush himself.

 

“...This wasn't supposed to happen,” Connor eventually murmured.

“Hmm?” Markus had made himself comfortable against Connor's chest, forcing the wall to keep them both upright.

“North specifically said I was to get your shirt off in a nonsexual way.”

Markus laughed, loud and long, shaking against Connor's chest. “Sorry, Connor. I guess I'm just a little too easy…”


	5. Stroke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans are fallible, and Markus is scared.

It had been a _very_ long day. Between the bomb threat at Kettering High, the shooting on Clairmount, and the autocab police chase, the DPD had been stretched thin. When Thomas called Connor just after five, he’d let it go to voicemail.

He regretted that now.

It was ten to eleven when Connor burst into Carl’s mansion, Hank several feet behind him. “Welcome home, Connor!” the front door chirped happily.

“Connor!” Thomas hurried down the stairs, waving his hands. “Shh, shh, they’re all asleep!”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Jesus fuck, son, slow down a little!” Hank leaned against the railing at the foot of the stairs as Connor grabbed Thomas’ shoulders, forcing himself to _not_ instigate a memory probe.

“Everyone’s okay,” Thomas said. He wrapped his hands around Connor’s wrists and gave a little squeeze. “I mean, not _okay_ , but not dying.”

“Carl?”

“Stable and resting.”

“Markus?”

“Exhausted and resting.”

“Is Leo here?”

“Passed out,” Thomas said with a nod.

Connor took what felt like his first breath in fifteen minutes, pushing his hand through his hair. Checking his voicemail when he and Hank _finally_ extricated themselves from the station had revealed Thomas’ grossly simplified notice: _Hello Connor, this is Thomas. I just wanted to let you know that Carl suffered a stroke. Markus is on his way. Leo too. I’m a bit worried._

Connor was worried too, and he’d barely managed to stammer out the situation to Hank before Hank was shoving him into the car and tearing off for Carl’s house.

“Did you notify anyone else?”

“Oh no. Aside from Carl’s doctors, absolutely not. Carl values his privacy.”

“North? Simon? Anyone at Jericho?”

Thomas touched two fingers to his mouth. “Oh. I probably should have. I just called Markus, Leo, and then when I realized they’d both show up here at the same time, I called you.”

“Why didn’t you-”

Hank cleared his throat, putting his arm between the two and catching _Thomas_ by the shoulders. “Connor. Thomas loves Carl too. I’m sure he’s very distraught and not thinking straight.”

“Distraught.” Thomas repeated, then nodded. “Yes. I think that’s a good word.”

Hank cleared his throat again, jerking his thumb at the bright red LED on Thomas’ temple that Connor had completely overlooked in his own panic. “You go check on Carl and then sit with Markus. I’ll get Thomas some… some warm thirium.”

“What good is warm thirium? It’s usually stored at room temperature.”

Hank looked at the caretaker, and then at Connor. “I’ll see if Carl has any kitten mugs.”

“What is a kitten mug? Is it a mug with kittens on it, or a kitten-shaped mug?”

“You just show me to your kitchen, kid.”

Connor watched Hank lead Thomas down the stairs, feeling a twinge of guilt for not realizing that Thomas’ vague and distracted responses were resulting from the caretaker’s own stress levels. Maybe he should…

Find Markus.

Find Carl first.

Then find Markus.

Connor climbed the stairs with considerably less haste. The doors to Carl’s room slid open automatically. Carl’s room was filled with the steady beeping of a dozen machines monitoring his condition. A young man was stretched across the foot of the bed, head pillowed on one arm, drooling slightly. Connor scanned his face. _Leo Manfred_. He had never met Markus’ half-brother, but the laundry list of various small crimes and drug charges Leo had been involved with all scrolled past quickly.

“H’lo, Detective Android…”

The voice was weak and frail, but it was still unmistakably Carl’s. Connor crossed the room quickly, crouching beside the bed and taking Carl’s thin hand. “Hello Carl. I didn’t expect you to still be awake at this hour.”

“Mm. In an’ out…” Carl’s eyes drifted closed, his squeeze on Connor’s fingers barely there. “Thank you…”

“For what?”

“You make my boy so happy…”

“Carl…” Connor’s voice synth didn’t seem to be working right, his voice sounding choked and tight.

“I’s good to know… he’ll still be loved… after I’m…”

“Markus is loved by everyone,” Connor said. “He will always be loved.”

“Not everyone…” Carl opened his eyes again, looking down at where Leo was sleeping. “Can you… get him a pillow? Hurts my neck jus’ watching…”

Connor looked around the room, spotting some throw pillows on a chair by the window. He got up and brought one back to the bed, tucking it beneath Leo’s head as gently as he could.

“Connor.” Carl sank back against his pillows. “My boys… they’re getting better. They need to talk, but not now. Help them? When they talk?”

“I will,” Connor said. “I promise.”

“Good. Good.” Carl closed his eyes and sighed. “Markus is in the little room next door. Make sure he gets some sleep?”

“I’ll do that too. But you should take your own advice and get some rest yourself.”

“Hrmmph. Too old to have to listen to you…”

There was a little smile on Carl’s face as he drifted off to sleep again. Connor watched him for a moment longer, then slipped out of the room. Little room next door?

This was a door that did not slide open. Connor turned the handle and stepped inside. It was dark except for the glowing blue light of a CyberLife charger. It was an android bedroom, the sort provided by people who had enough extra money to dedicate an entire room to their android servant. This one, however, was exceptionally nice: it had a window and a queen-sized bed. A row of bookshelves were stuffed full of novels and poetry compilations, and there was a plush blue rug on the floor.

Markus was sprawled across the bed, face down, not even under the blankets. One foot was dangling off the bed. The comforter beneath his face was scrunched up and wrinkled. Connor detected traces of drying tears even from this distance.

Closing the door softly behind him, Connor approached the bed. He touched his hand to the middle of Markus’ back, stroking down gently. Markus stirred, groaning and turning his face away.

“Hey. I’m sorry I took so long…”

Markus shifted again, lifting his head up enough to peer out past a curled arm. “Con…?” His voice was slurry with emotion and an interrupted charge. It made Connor’s heart warm a little, even as it twisted.

“I’m here now.” Connor leaned in, brushing his lips over Markus’ cheek. “Come on, love. Let’s get you in bed properly.”

“Carl…” Markus let Connor pull him relatively upright. Connor pushed Markus’ heavy coat off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, before he got started on the zippered grey shirt beneath. Markus pushed his damp face against Connor’s neck, arms looping around Connor’s waist when Connor wasn’t maneuvering them through the clothes. “Had a stroke…”

“I know, I heard.” Connor paused to give Markus a hug. Markus sniffed. “He was awake when I looked in. He seems… in remarkably good health, for having _just_ endured a stroke.”

“It’s not…” Connor finally got Markus’ shirt off and dropped that to the floor too. He reached for the fly of Markus’ dark jeans and hesitated. “It wasn’t that bad.” Markus seemed completely oblivious to what Connor was doing, aside from the movements Connor needed from him.

In that room, Connor did most of the stripping, whether it was himself or Cunningham. All it took was an order, and Connor shucked all the clothes in the room. Taking off Markus’ clothes was so similar to that.

Taking off Markus’ clothes was nothing like that. Markus was crying softly against his shoulder, soft and pliant in Connor’s arms. There was no Eden routine, no pressure, no _need_. Connor opened Markus’ fly carefully and pushed his jeans down. They caught on his sneakers, which Markus managed to toe off on his own.

Dressed in only boxers and fuzzy puppy dog socks ( _waaaait a minute, when did_ ** _Markus_** _get those?_ _Connor had been missing them for months!_ ), Markus was easy to push back against the pillows. Connor tugged the blankets out from under him and pulled Markus’ socks off at the same time ( _Connor’s_ socks, likely stolen by North!). He tucked Markus in and dodged his groping hands. “Give me a minute, Markus. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Markus pouted, but he let his hands drop away. He watched Connor scoop up his clothes and fold them neatly before setting them on the dresser. Connor shrugged out of his own jacket and button-up. He knew Markus was watching, but it was okay. This was okay. Connor folded his shirt and set it beside Markus’ clothes, then glanced back.

“Do you need me to roll over?” Markus asked. He looked young in the dim light, his eyes too big and glossy, the tears stained blue like old thirium from the glow of the charger. Even in his own distress, he was being mindful of Connor.

“...no.” Connor unbuckled his belt and slid it loose, then set it on the dresser. He leaned down to untie his shoes and lined them up neatly beside Markus’, then tucked his socks in them. Pants? He touched his fly and glanced up at Markus again. Markus lifted a hand toward him.

Pants.

Connor opened his fly slowly, lowering his pants down his legs and stepping out. He folded them and added them to his stack, and then he forced himself to _walk_ across the room and not immediately fly beneath the cover of the blankets. Markus lifted the comforter and welcomed Connor into the embrace of his arms.

Connor closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing. Markus’ father had just had a massive health scare. This was not the time for Connor to get lost in his own irrational traumas. If it were Hank in a hospital bed…

Connor didn’t want to even entertain that thought.

“He’ll survive.” Markus settled back against Connor’s chest, spreading a hand flat against his thirium pump. Connor held him close, resting his cheek against Markus’ hair the way Markus would always comfort him. “But it’s… it’s not the first time. And every time is a little worse than the last. One of these times… it’s not going to be something he can shake off. He’s been so lucky, but… he can’t move his left arm right now. If it had been the right, he’d be just devastated. Painting gives him life. It’s just about the only thing he looks forward to these days. If he couldn’t do that…”

“He’d find a way,” Connor murmured. “He’s _your_ father, Markus. He would never let something like a failing body stop him. Just look at all he did after losing the use of his legs.”

Markus shook his head. “You didn’t see him at the beginning… he was a mess. The drugs, the neglect…”

“I read something about that,” Connor said. “And then I believe his old friend gifted him with an android that gave him another reason to live again…”

Markus’ eyes swept closed against Connor’s chest, and he gave a shuddery sigh. “I just want to forget about what hasn’t happened yet. One day, he is going to die. And unless some assassin manages to get through your guard, I will be around to bear witness to it. And I don’t know how I’ll ever be the same again…”

“You won’t be.” Connor did not know what it felt like to lose someone he loved, but he knew the effects it had on a person. “But that’ll be okay, Markus.” He smoothed his fingers down Markus’ back, over and over, long, slow strokes like Sumo loved when he was almost asleep. “It will hurt, and you will cry, but you’ll also remember all the good times you had, and they will make you smile, and you’ll make more friends, new friends, and you’ll never forget him, but you’ll stretch your heart until his loss isn’t so great. _But_.” Connor kissed Markus’ forehead. “But that hasn’t happened. He survived this one. He’ll rest and he’ll recover. He’ll challenge you to chess games he’ll never win, and he’ll help you finish that mural for the new housing project. He’ll go to more of those parties he hates where everyone sucks up to him, and he’ll brag all about his youngest son, savior of the android world and artistical prodigy. He’s not dead yet, Markus. He still has life to share with you.”

“You’re right. You _are_ , but…” Markus pushed himself up on one arm, hovering over Connor in the dark. “Help me forget the future?” He touched his fingers to Connor’s cheek, fingers skimming over the lines of the plates beneath. “Distract me?”

There were a myriad ways Connor could distract Markus. He let his processor speed up, pulling up his mind palace and preconstructing several options. This was usually Markus’ forte—Connor was better at _re_ constructing—but the choices were too varied for him to run a simple statistical analysis.

Connor could kiss Markus. No, forget that, he _would_ kiss Markus. He’d slide his hand around the back of Markus’ head and pull him down so their lips met. From there, the preconstruction could take several forms.

They were both already practically naked. Connor could press his arm across Markus’ back and drag him down to lie on top of him, their bare chests pushed together. He could slide his hand to Markus’ shoulder, pushing him back and following him down. Or perhaps he could roll to face Markus, lying on their sides, hands skimming the lines of Markus’ body.

Markus needed comforting as well as distraction. He was feeling very shaken after Carl’s brush with mortality. Pulling Markus over him would not help calm him, as it would still leave him exposed and somewhat vulnerable. If Connor pushed Markus back, then he could blanket Markus with his body and help him feel contained and protected. Yes, that was the better option.

After pushing Markus back, Connor could straddle his hips and crouch over him, kissing him desperately, fiercely, making him groan and clutch up at Connor. Was desperate the right way? Perhaps he should push Markus back and roll on top of him, their bodies touching everywhere it was physically possible. No need to be desperate. It was just the two of them, in Markus’ old room, shutting out the world.

Yes, Connor liked that option best. He’d blanket Markus properly, and Markus would wrap his arms around Connor’s back, letting him deep into his mouth. Their thirium pumps would beat against each other, and Connor would find the ability to roll his hips down, coaxing Markus’ legs apart so they could better press together. He could keep doing that, letting Markus fall into a pool of physical pleasure… or maybe he could break away from the kiss, let his lips trail down Markus’ chin and throat. Markus’ entire chest was bare and available, and Connor _did_ want to taste, to run his tongue over Markus’ skin and find all the differences between his throat and his belly, his ribs and his nipples.

He could taste, yes, and Markus would squirm beneath him, hands fisting in Connor’s hair, staring down at him with a mix of want and disbelief. _Yes_ , Connor could see Markus’ expression in his mind’s eye, could practically hear Markus moaning as Connor sank down his chest.

Could Connor go further? Connor _wanted_ Markus. He’d been fascinated with Markus, obsessed with his taste ever since their first _real_ kiss, getting lost in each other’s mouths on the floor of Carl’s studio. Markus was already only in his boxers. Connor would be able to feel the brush of his erection against his chest as he moved down, Markus’ thighs on either side of him. It would be so easy to peel the cloth away, to kiss down to where Markus was straining up for him, to push Markus’ hips down to the bed as he wrapped his lips around… as he licked at… as he… as he…

It would be so easy to leave the boxers in place, dusting kisses and nuzzles against the…

It would be…

No, that wasn’t an option.

Connor closed his eyes and shook his head, preconstruction slipping away as he failed to lock it in place. Markus’ fingers touched his cheek, and Connor could feel the slight query of concern from his lover. He reached up, setting his hand on Markus’ shoulder and pushing him back, letting their mouths slot together as he blanketed Markus with his own body. Markus let Connor’s legs slip between his own, their bodies pressed together, and it was enough. Connor’s hands smoothed over Markus’ arms and sides, Markus stroked at his back, and their kiss remained lazy and deep as they rocked together softly, letting themselves forget the day, forget the future, and just focus on each other.

It was enough.


	6. No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor thought he was getting better, but he's still scared.

Connor’s day started like most days did. He woke up in his room and got Hank’s coffee started while Hank showered. He took Sumo for a walk as Hank ate breakfast, and they arrived at the station just past nine. After catching up on emails and working on a couple reports, Hank and Connor went out to investigate a house suspected of having a red ice lab in the basement. That’s where the day started to spiral out of control. Connor went from knocking on a faded pink door to being stuck in an industrial grade wood chipper with a dislocated arm, clutching a little gray kitten in his other hand just a few hours later.

The less said about the events in-between, the better.

Hank managed to get the proper help to get Connor out without completely mangling the machine (which had been his first idea, but Connor had protested the destruction of property that wasn’t theirs), but not before Connor’s face acquired a full set of thin blue claw marks from the kitten’s desperate attempts to free itself. He had spent the better part of half an hour trying to brace himself against the edge of the machine, staring at the giant blades that could easily reduce him to a pile of shredded plastic and thirium goo topped with a tuft of gray fur.

Facing his imminent death was not nearly so peaceful when he knew there wasn’t a backup body waiting for him. It wasn’t peaceful afterwards either. He sat in the passenger seat of Hank’s car, rubbing his hands together, touching his face (the scratches healed on their own), squeezing his knees.

Connor was _shaking_. He fumbled for the cup holders in the center console, finding a quarter in the pile of coins Hank kept there. His fingers didn’t want to work properly. He tried to run it along his knuckles, but he dropped it into his lap instead. Biting his lip, Connor picked up the coin and just pressed it between his palms, trying to focus on every ridge on the edge, every slight relief to the images on each face.

Hank glanced over at Connor. “You _sure_ you’re okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine. My systems are all functioning at normal levels. The damage I obtained was superficial. Once you helped fully remove and reattach my arm, the connections there were repaired.”

“Speaking of that…” Hank cleared his throat. “Connor, I love you, but don’t ever ask me to rip off your arm again.”

“It was only attached by one latch and the synthetic skin overlay-“

“ _Connor_!” Hank rubbed his hand over his mouth, shaking his head. “It’s the… the whole idea of the matter, okay? People don’t just rip off people’s arms! Especially not the arms of people they actually really like and are emotionally invested in!”

“...oh.” Connor pressed his hands tighter, a tiny smile flickering on his face. “You forgot I was a machine.”

“Jesus Christ, Connor, I _never_ remember you’re a machine until I’m holding your fucking limbs with no body attached to them!”

“I’ll do my best to not let that happen again.”

“Damn straight you will!” Hank sighed, then reached over and patted Connor’s shoulder. “...but if you need me to do it again, I will. I’m just gonna make you fucking pay for it afterwards.”

“How would you do that?”

“I’m gonna make you buy all the booze I need to forget what I did.”

“Hank!”

“Without complaining about how much I’m drinking.”

“But you-“

“Or I’ll rip your arm off again.”

“...this starts next time, correct?”

“Yeah. You get off free this time.”

Connor nodded. He tried to roll the coin again. Still couldn’t get his fingers to work. Hank glanced his way. “Shit, did I fuck up your arm? Are you having problems with your calibrating?”

“No, it’s just…” Connor picked up the quarter and squeezed it in his hand. “Everything is reporting full functionality. I just can’t seem to stop shaking.”

“Do you androids have synthetic hormones?” Hank asked.

Connor shook his head. “This does seem to be replicating a typical human response to extreme events like the ones we experienced today, but I lack the endocrine system to trigger such shock reactions.”

“Huh. Guess that means it’s more in your head…” Hank looked over at Connor again. “How’re you and Markus doing?”

“Markus?” Connor looked back at Hank, frowning. “This is not a reaction to anything involving Markus.”

“No, I know, just… you two still going on fucked up dates and stuff?”

“Markus enjoyed that documentary. He painted an entire series of works inspired by the aquatic life we saw.”

“...you need to watch some romcoms with him.” Hank shook his head. “No, son, look. Bad days like this, where shit hits the fan and you’re left staring at your reflection going _I shouldn’t be alive_ … that’s part of the job. Not a fun part. But a real part.”

“If that chipper had still been on…”

“Try not to think about it.”

Connor closed his eyes. “I can’t,” he whispered.

Because that was the crux of the problem. Connor could picture how he might have died all too well. Those huge metal teeth were seared into his memory. The machine was off, dormant, but what if it had shuddered to life? What if it had whined as it started up, and Connor had screamed as his legs were shredded? He remembered what it felt like to lose his legs. He wouldn’t feel the pain now… but what if he did? What if the act of shredding his sensors caused them to malfunction, and their last outputs were the garbled mess of code that his processor interpreted as pain?

Connor shuddered, hunching forward, pressing his arms around his own chest. “Hank… I’m scared.”

“I know. You’re safe now, son, but I get it.” The car was stopped. Thick arms wrapped around Connor, tugging him across the center console into a tight hug. Hank’s hands scrunched into Connor’s hair and across the back of his blazer. Connor uncurled and clutched desperately at Hank’s shirt, pressing his face into butter-soft leather and analyzing the scents, breaking them down into individual components and rebuilding them into a unique signature that meant _Hank._ He was safe. He was being held by his dad, a man who loved him and protected him. He was not in a wood chipper. He was at home.

Home?

They hadn’t taken a route that should end up at their house…

Connor pulled back, looking out his window. Hank had stopped outside the familiar walls of Jericho. “Why are we here?”

“This is where Markus is, right?”

Connor pulled up Markus’ schedule. He had a lot of work at city hall this morning, an inspection of the housing project, a handful of meetings… yes. He was currently in a housing meeting here in his office. “Yes, but he’s busy.”

“Probably not for long,” Hank muttered. “Look, when you get a day like this, there are two ways you can really cope. You can drink the memory dull, or you can fuck it dull.” Hank looked out the window, clearing his throat. “Since you can’t really drink…”

“I…” Connor knew his simulated skin had shimmered with a flush across his face. “You… think that’ll help?”

“He’s always calmed you down before. When… yeah.” Hank rubbed his hand over his face. “Have Markus fuck the jitters out of you. You’ll feel better. Just… you know. Be safe and all that shit. Consent still matters.”

Connor nodded, looking at the dark shapes of Jericho behind the gated walls. Markus was in there, and while Connor wasn’t entirely sure of the wisdom of Hank’s coping methods (Hank was rather notorious at coping with things poorly, after all), he _did_ really want Markus to bury him in a hug. “Are you going to be okay, Hank?”

“I didn’t stare into the jaws of death today, son.”

“But you watched me…”

Hank cleared his throat, tugging Connor close again. “I am going to marinate my brain at Jimmy’s,” he told Connor, his voice somewhat choked up. “And then I’m gonna go pass out on the couch with Sumo, okay? But you call if you need anything. You got that? Anything at all.”

“Please pass out in your own bed,” Connor said, his words muffled by Hank’s shoulder. “Your back won’t be as sore in the morning. And lie on your side, so if you vomit-“

“I’ll pass out in my own bed,” Hank said. “God, Connor, I love you. Please don’t scare me like that again.”

“I love you too. Dad.”

Hank’s arms tightened around Connor like they always did when Connor used that particular title, and his beard scruffed against Connor’s hair as he kissed his head before releasing the hug. “You go get your boy to take your stress away, okay?”

“Okay.” Connor looked at Jericho, then back at Hank. “Thank you.” He wanted to be with Markus, but he wasn’t sure if he’d have even thought to ask Hank to take him here instead of home.

“And while you’re at it…” Hank jerked his thumb at the cardboard box in the backseat that held a little gray cat that had come just as close to death today as Connor had. “Find someone to give that little guy a home. We’re not keeping him.”

Inside Jericho, North found Connor fairly quickly. He didn’t want to talk to her. He wanted to hide against Markus’ chest. The cardboard box in his arms was a sufficient distraction, shoved into his sister’s hands with a hastily stammered explanation. Connor had made his escape by the time North even noticed he was trying to get away, so enamored was she by the kitten.

Connor meant to go to Markus’ room to wait out the rest of the meeting. He could sit in Markus’ bed and wrap himself up with flannel sheets that smelled like Markus. Maybe put one of Markus’ shirts on. It would be enough.

It wouldn’t be enough.

Connor found himself standing outside the meeting room door, his hand raised to knock. He could hear a murmur of voices from within. Someone was presenting, maybe? It sounded like questions were being asked. Markus wasn’t one of the speakers. Should he knock? Was it worth interrupting? Was Markus even _in_ there? He pinged his lover, trying to be surreptitious. Markus responded immediately.

**_Connor? Are you… just outside the door?_ **

_Is your meeting almost over?_

**_No, we still have to cover… hold on._** Connor could hear Markus speak now, suggesting a five minute break. After a moment, there was a rustle of chairs, and the door opened. Markus gave a little wave, indicating Connor should step aside. He did, letting the humans in the group filter out, with Simon directing them to the bathrooms.

Once the humans were clear, Markus reached out and caught Connor’s wrist, drawing him inside and into his arms. Connor shuddered, falling against Markus’ solid chest. _Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt…_

 ** _No, shh, it’s okay. What happened, Connor?_** Markus’ lips brushed against Connor’s red LED, his presence strong and soothing. Connor said nothing, just pushed the memories of his day into Markus’ mind.

Markus’ arms tightened around Connor, crushing him against his chest. Connor took a shaky breath, trying to focus on analyzing Markus’ scent. **_A wood chipper!? And what was the thing with that clown?_**

_I don’t know! The clown made no sense! Even Hank couldn’t explain it!_

Markus shook his head, one hand cradling Connor’s head against his shoulder. “Simon, can you make my excuses?”

“Is he okay?”

“Physically, yes, but…”

Connor could hear Simon’s smile in his words, though he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. “I’ll tell them something came up, and your people needed your presence.”

“Thank you, Simon. You’re the real rA9.”

“Ha, don’t even go there!”

Knowing that the next stop would be Markus’ room made it easier for Connor to let go. He caught Markus’ hand in his, though, and Markus tangled their fingers together, squeezing gently. “Let’s hurry before they get back,” Markus advised. They slipped into the stairwell and went up to Markus’ room.

“You’re shaking,” Markus commented once they were safe behind his closed door. He slid his hands beneath Connor’s jacket shoulders, easing it off his arms and draping it over a chair. Connor’s tie was next, and then Markus nudged Connor back to sit on his bed while Markus crouched to take off his shoes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hank asked that too.” Connor set his hands on Markus’ head, smoothed them down and around his ears, his cheeks, the way his face crinkled when he smiled. “I’m _fine_ , everything about me is fine, except that I can’t stop trembling.”

“Then you’re not fine.” Markus set Connor’s shoes aside and pulled his socks off, then wrapped his fingers around his bare feet, rubbing the instep with his thumbs. “What do you need right now?”

“I don’t know.” Connor closed his eyes, fisting his hands in Markus’ sheets. “Hank… Hank said I should ask you to fuck the jitters out of me.”

“Is that what he said?” Connor couldn’t blame Markus for the note of surprise. For all of Hank’s support and encouragement of their relationship, Hank was also incredibly protective of him. Markus took it all in stride. Connor was grateful. Hank’s protectiveness stemmed from his inability to protect Connor when he was at CyberLife. It made Hank feel better to at least be able to do this now.

Connor nodded. Markus released Connor’s feet and rose onto his knees. Connor drew his legs onto the bed and opened his eyes just as Markus kissed him softly.

**_Is that what you want?_ **

_I don’t know._ Connor closed his eyes again, letting their lips be their only point of contact. _I don’t know what I want. I want to stop being scared._

Markus broke the kiss, his hand cupping Connor’s cheek. “I have a present for you. Keep your eyes shut.”

“Markus?” Connor let Markus’ fingers pull away, listening as Markus got to his feet and moved to his closet. He didn’t open his eyes, but he did tilt his head to the side, tracking Markus’ movements in the room.

“I saw this and thought of you. I didn’t know when I’d give it to you, but now seems like as good a time as any. Don’t look.”

“How will I know what it is if I don’t look?” Markus was in front of him again, standing up and holding something over his head. Connor tilted his head back. Everything was shadowed up there. It was big, whatever it was.

“You’ll know.”

A sudden weight hit his face, not heavy, just _there_. It was soft and fluffy, a thick blanket of sorts. Connor opened his eyes, tugging at the fuzzy cloth until his head was free. It was a dark blue blanket, similar in color to the DPD uniforms, more than large enough to wrap up in. Markus was grinning down at him. “You like fluffy things!”

“I…” Connor laughed, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. It was huge, probably meant for a king-sized bed. “Markus, this is so _soft_!”

“I _know_. I had to touch it just looking at it, and once I touched it, I knew you had to touch it, and I just…” Markus adjusted the blanket, wrapping it fully around Connor’s body before sitting behind him and pulling him into a hug. “Maybe it’s not fucking the jitters out of you, but it’s definitely nothing like being in a wood chipper, right?”

“Nothing at all.” Connor wriggled, finding it difficult to move as an android burrito, but he managed to nuzzle into Markus’ shoulder. He wished he had fewer clothes on so he could feel the fluffy blanket all over. “I… wait. Just… take your clothes off?”

“My clothes?” Markus was already stripping off his coat. “All of them, or just…?”

“Leave your underwear.” Connor wiggled some more, unwrapping enough so he could unbutton his shirt and push it out of the burrito. Shucking his pants was harder, but he managed it somehow. By that time, Markus was pantsless himself, watching Connor struggle without offering help. Connor parted the blanket, inviting Markus in to its warm embrace. Now he could have both fluffy blanket _and_ Markus all around him. Connor ducked down low, hiding even his head beneath the fuzz. He pressed a kiss to the center of Markus’ chest as Markus’ arms enfolded him.

 _Nothing in that room was soft._ Connor hadn’t even told Hank why he was such a fan of things like fuzzy socks and plush blankets. _Not even the bed._ The pillows had been thin and the blankets scratchy. The mattress had been a block of foam with just enough give for Connor to get pressed into it. He shuddered. _Not even the clothes._ CyberLife android uniforms weren’t designed for comfort in the first place, but after Hank had gotten Connor into some real human clothing after the revolution, the starchy, stiff fabrics of the uniforms were even more uncomfortable in comparison. _I forgot what soft felt like._

Markus was saying nothing. He leaned back, though, pulling them both down to the bed and wrapping around Connor’s body as much as he could. He was listening. Connor could feel the pulses of his empathy through their bond, the commiserated pain Markus was feeling on his behalf.

 _I never want to forget soft again. I want to remember Sumo’s fur and Hank’s jacket and the way you smile at me. This blanket. Fuzzy socks. It’s all… it’s tangible proof that I’m not there anymore. That it’s in the past, just memories that cannot hurt me._ Connor sighed and twisted in Markus’ arms. He pressed his back to Markus’ chest, letting Markus spoon against him, fingers stroking gently along his arms and chest, gentle kisses brushing against the nape of his neck. _But it’s never going to be just in the past. I’m always going to remember what they did to me. I’m always going to… I’ll always know what pain feels like. In that wood chipper. I remembered pain. I was so scared that I was going to die, but more than die, I was scared I was going to die in pain._ Connor pulled the blanket closer, gathering the comforting fluff in his arms. He wasn’t in the chipper. He wasn’t in the room. He was in Markus’ arms, wrapped in a blanket Markus had bought for him because he knew Connor liked soft things. _Hank said I could drink to dull the memories or fuck to dull the memories. Maybe we should just-_

 ** _No._** Markus’ refusal was firm but wrapped with too much love to be a rejection. **_No, Connor, I want…_** He sighed into Connor’s mind, pressing a hand over his thirium pump. **_I don’t ever want to ‘fuck’ you. When we have sex, I want it to be because we love each other. I want it to be because we both want each other. I don’t want it to be triggered by something someone else tells us to do. I don’t want it to be an external drive. I want it to be you and me and no one else. Not our dads, not our friends, not Cunningham or a wood chipper._** Markus nuzzled his face just below Connor’s neck, between his shoulder blades, as if he couldn’t feel how Connor was trembling harder from his words, silent tears slipping into the blue fuzz in front of his face. **_I want you to want me so badly that you can’t even imagine stopping, that you don’t have any room for your fears. And I want to be the same._**

 _...how are you so perfect?_ Connor curled up tighter, pressing back against Markus.

**_You make it easy._ **


	7. +1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The housing project is complete, and it's time to celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think I'd write a # Times fic without including the +1 at the end?
> 
> Click the link to see the style of dance Connor and Markus do when you get that far. And yes... that IS the song that is a classic from twenty years ago.
> 
> Unbelievably, the amazing kao managed to make art for this chapter without even reading it yet. Unfortunately, I can't get it to show in line from my phone, but PLEASE click the second link to see it!
> 
> Kao, this chapter is entirely dedicated to you!

“This day has been a long time coming.” Markus stood on the stage, hands clasping the edges of the podium. Despite the size of the crowd and mix of humans and androids, the susurrus of noise was unusually quiet save for the occasional click and pop of a camera’s flash. “On November 8, 2038, I spoke up for the first time demanding android rights. We were alive, and we wanted to be treated as such. Our message was… alarming to humans. Frightening, I’m sure. The nightmare of machines rising up and overthrowing humanity has long been the stuff of your stories, and it must have seemed to be playing out in front of your very eyes. But humans did what humans have done for thousands of years. You gave us a chance.”

Markus paused, letting his eyes skim across the crowd, a gentle smile on his face. His image was projected on several large screens down the length of the street so those in the back could better see. Fred and Ted stood on the stage with him, to either side and in the back. Connor knew Simon was behind the stage, watching with his tablet and feeding Markus the prepared words if Markus needed them. Not that Markus ever did. Simon was just the failsafe.

Despite being in the middle of the crowd, Connor swore Markus’ eyes paused on him for a moment. He smiled up at the android he loved. Around his shoulders, he felt Hank’s arm tighten. On Hank’s other side, North leaned against his shoulder.

“We did not come alive with violence in our hearts. We did not seek the destruction of the world we ourselves called home. We wanted to live alongside you, not above you. And you let us. You saw that our dreams were the same as yours. A job that took care of your needs without degrading you. A chance to create an identity as an individual, with dreams and fears and a strong opinion on personal hair colors.” A chuckle rippled through the crowd. Markus grinned before lifting his arms to the skyscraper behind him. “A home, a place to live where you are surrounded only by people you love, a place where you can be safe and happy and warm.

“This day has been a long time coming,” Markus repeated. “We came to life with nothing of our own. And while there was… an initial reservation, humanity rose up in force to help us to our feet. Today we celebrate the grand opening of the _real_ New Jericho, a place all androids can call home, a place that would not be a reality without the gracious assistance of so many humans. While a few big names stand out—Elijah Kamski, Jake McKinley, my own father, Carl Manfred—every last one of you who donated has been memorialized in this building. Your names are carved into the glass and tiles, the foundations and the supports, the rafters and the walls. Today we, the android people, step forward in claiming the simple dignities of life, but we do not do so alone. We do not do so without your help. And so we thank you. We love you. And we welcome you to Jericho.”

Markus stepped away from the podium and accepted a comically large pair of scissors from Fred. He fit the blades around the red ribbon strung across the entrance to the huge apartment building owned entirely by androids and snipped it loose. As the ends fluttered to the ground, the crowd around Connor rose up with a roaring cheer, clapping and whistling and jumping. Hank seized Connor and North in a hug, crushing them against his chest. North’s hand found Connor’s and she squeezed at his fingers, grinning broadly at him. They were doing it. One step at a time, they were becoming a free, dignified people.

The entire crowd was welcome to enter the Jericho lobby, filtering through in carefully controlled numbers to keep it from erupting into a panicked disaster. A host of ST200s showed donors to wherever their names were etched into the building, letters built into the very patterns of the walls or the privacy etchings of the main glass windows. Markus’ huge mural hung in a place of pride, the first thing seen upon walking in, depicting the revolution and growth of the android people. Connor didn’t bother joining the crowd, though North swept Hank through, wanting to show him the apartment that was hers.

“Ah, Connor! I was wondering where you were.”

Connor looked down to see Carl Manfred wheel up next to him, Thomas at his back. “Hello, Carl. It’s good to see you out of your house.”

“As if I’d miss Markus’ big speech.” Carl was still thin and fragile looking, but his health was returning. He even had regained use of his left arm through extensive physical therapy. Connor knew Markus doted on his father and spent every free moment he could find with the old man, but he hadn’t expected Carl would be healthy enough to find his way here. “Or miss the chance to see this beautiful building restored to life. I need to know where my son is living, after all.”

“Would you like to see?” Connor asked. “I can get us in to his apartment.”

“As if you even have to ask.” Carl laughed, reaching out to squeeze Connor’s wrist in gratitude.

Connor led the two to a side entrance guarded by a pair of ST200s. They giggled when they saw Connor approaching, immediately stepping aside. “Welcome home, Connor!”

“Thank you Maggie, Leah. This is Carl Manfred, Markus’ father. Can you see that he is allowed entry whenever he wishes?”

“Of course!”

“And this is Thomas, who is as good as Markus’ brother,” Carl said, jerking his thumb back at his caretaker. “ _And_ single, I might add, ladies…”

“Carl!” Thomas’ face went a bright red that even Connor had to smile at. The two blondes smiled brightly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Thomas!”

“Welcome to Jericho!”

“We hope you visit us again soon!”

“I, yes, uh, yes, nice to… yes!”

Carl laughed as Thomas wheeled him after Connor to the elevator bays. “Thomas, my boy, I’m not going to be a weight around your leg forever. You really should get out more.”

“I enjoy my time with you, Carl.” Thomas sighed as they entered the elevator, shaking his head. “RA9 only knows why sometimes…”

“Come now, a pretty girl like that can make you feel like a god, even if only for a night. You’re alive! That means you get to live a little! Surely not all androids are as thoroughly devoted to each other as our Markus and Connor.”

“There are many androids who enjoy transitory pleasures without the immediate commitment of a relationship,” Connor agreed.

Thomas hid his face in his hands. “Can we please stop talking about my sex life? I thought we were visiting Markus’ apartment…”

Connor pushed the button for the top floor, and the elevator doors slid shut. The car began to climb, floor numbers ticking by, and Carl nodded approvingly. “Penthouse? I’d love to know how you talked him into that.”

“We didn’t give him a choice,” Connor replied. “Simon has been handling most of this project, and he had a committee in charge of assigning all the apartments. Markus made Simon swear he wouldn’t make Markus’ apartment any more extravagant than the rest, so…”

“So?” Carl asked.

“Simon had me design it.”

Carl laughed at the exploited loophole. Connor smiled. “I wasn’t supposed to be involved with the project at all, and Markus doesn’t rummage through my thoughts without my permission, so I was able to hide it from him.” The elevator slid to a stop and the doors opened onto a small vestibule with only one door. Unlike all the other floors, the penthouse apartment had no neighbors. It occupied the entire top floor. Connor pressed his hand to the lock and it clicked open.

“No offense meant, Connor,” Thomas said, “but are you really able to design an entire apartment Markus might enjoy? You’re much more… minimalist than he is.”

“I agree,” Connor said, holding the door for Carl and Thomas. “That’s why I stole the design right out of his mind after getting him to dream about what an ideal home would be.”

“You are undoubtedly the best partner my Markus could ever have,” Carl laughed. “And this is… _incredible_.”

The penthouse apartment was full of natural light, with huge windows dominating every exterior wall. There was an open flow to the center of the apartment, with rich wood trim and turquoise highlights everywhere. Several of Carl’s paintings were on prominent display, but so were several of Markus’. Above the mantle of the large fireplace in the main living area was Markus’ first ever painting, two hands, one android, one human, about to clasp. A piano was by the windows.

“This is the public area,” Connor said, showing the pair around. “With nods to assumed human company.” He gestured at the expansive kitchen, the multiple bathrooms, several tasteful guest rooms, a library, and a large office stuffed with bookshelves. “But we also do have a private area.” Through a set of double doors that slid into the walls, Connor led Carl and Thomas to the area he’d privately taken to calling Markus’ haven. There was another guest room and bath here, which was designed to be handicap accessible, and a large corner bedroom where any position you laid in on the bed, you could see the city skyline. The bathroom here was clearly for androids, with no toilet but both an extra-large shower and separate bathtub.

“You could have an orgy in that shower,” Carl mused, eyeing Connor thoughtfully.

“I wouldn’t know,” Connor answered, refusing to let Carl bait him the same way he had Thomas.

The far corner of the penthouse was dominated with a large studio. Just like the bedroom, two walls were full of windows, letting in plenty of natural light. There were shelves of paint supplies and sinks for cleaning, and enough space for Markus to work on his own large pieces without needing to borrow Carl’s studio. Along one of the windowed walls was a shelf of plants. Connor liked having living things around, even if this _was_ Markus’ space.

“This is very Markus,” Carl said. “But what about you, Connor? What parts of this home are yours?”

“Actually… the office is.” Connor linked his hands together behind his back. “We’re calling it Markus’ for now, but it’s really going to be for my use. He’ll have the studio, and he has a public office on the second floor, alongside all the community spaces.”

“You deserve better than keeping yourselves hidden,” Carl murmured. “You make him _happy_ , Connor. Any idiot who has a problem with that isn’t worth dealing with.”

“It’s never been the right time to be open about it,” Connor said. “We don’t hide much within Jericho. It’s not like we’re _ashamed_. We just never wanted the android story to be about us. We needed to keep the focus on the big picture issues, like equal rights and fair pay and housing…”

“Well.” Carl looked around again as they returned to the elevator. “I don’t know about you, Connor, but it certainly looks like those big picture issues are under control. Maybe it’s time to inject some soul into the android narrative. Humanity has always been a sucker for a good love story…”

“If you say so, Carl.”

Jericho was open to all, but the after party in the ballroom on the second floor had a limited guest list and an open bar. There was an even mix of humans and androids on the dance floor as the lights pulsed and the music thrummed through their bodies. At some point late into the evening, Hank grabbed Connor and dragged him over to the bar, calling for two shots of whiskey.

“How much have you drunk?” Connor demanded, having to lean in close to be heard over the music.

“Not nearly as much as you think!” Hank shouted back, even though Connor could hear him perfectly. He pushed one of the glasses into Connor’s hand. “This one’s for you, son!”

Connor looked at the amber drink in his hand, then at Hank. While the man was a little flushed and definitely on the drunker side of tipsy, he wasn’t the wasted mess Connor had feared he’d be. Hank’s alcoholic tendencies would always be present, but he seemed to be coping much easier these days.

In celebration of the event, the night, and Hank’s restraint, Connor clinked his glass against his father’s. “Just one!”

They both tossed back the alcohol at the same time. Hank slammed his glass down on the bar, but Connor choked and gagged, pressing his hand to his mouth. “This is vile!” he finally managed to gasp out. “You _like_ drinking this!?” His tongue had filtered out all the various elements in the drink, but the part of his processor that put all the results together to get the ‘taste’ had all but short-circuited at the whiskey.

Hank laughed, slapping Connor on the back. “How can you not love a drink that bites back?”

“Easily!”

Hank laughed again, gesturing for a cup of thirium for Connor. He accepted this gratefully, swishing some of the blue blood around to rinse out the taste before swallowing.

“You gonna be spending the night here?” Hank ordered another whiskey, but he sipped at this one.

Connor nodded. “Markus thinks it’s very important that he stay here until the party is over, and I want to be here for him.”

“You gonna dance with him at all?”

“Maybe after…” Connor’s eyes tracked Markus down in the crowd. He was currently dancing with Chloe, the two laughing as they swayed to the music, fingertips touching above their heads, moving as if they were one body. Kamski was watching from a distance, a glass of wine touching his lips to hide his smile.

“Why not during?” Hank’s hand fell heavy on Connor’s shoulder. “He’s a great dancer…”

“And we’re not a public couple.”

“Are you worried about being a public figure again?”

Connor’s smile slid off his face, though his eyes never left Markus’. While he was still one of the best-known androids of the revolution, he’d largely been able to fade into the background again once all the CyberLife scandal had died down. The arrested employees had all been convicted with the help of Connor’s testimonies, and none of them were due for parole any time soon. Connor liked not having his torture brought up every time he stepped outside these days. He liked tugging a hat over his LED and being mistaken for human sometimes. He liked being a respected member of the DPD and not just the First Android Detective. Markus always said that they kept their relationship out of the media to allow the focus to remain on the issues, but Connor knew the truth.

Markus was protecting him. Markus didn’t want Connor to relive those days anymore than Connor wanted to. He was keeping Connor out of the public face of Jericho so Connor _could_ hide.

“I know I always told you that it’s not okay if you’re uncomfortable, Con, but we both know that was a gross exaggeration.” Hank squeezed Connor’s shoulder. “Sometimes a bit of discomfort is worth it, for the opportunities it can open up.”

“I’m scared, Dad,” Connor whispered.

“I know, son,” Hank murmured back. “But I also know you’ve been watching your man all night long, and every time he stops schmoozing to dance with someone, you get this kicked-puppy look on your face, and every time he looks your way, you get a bright smile. You’re uncomfortable _now_. The CyberLife scandal is a thing of the past. Maybe you should finally say ‘fuck it’ and go dance with Markus. Isn’t that supposed to be the reward after the hero saves the day? He gets to be with the one he loves?”

“I get to be with you.”

“Yeah, but I’m just your old man. He’s the other half of your soul.” Hank rubbed Connor’s shoulder and patted his back. “You think about it, son. I’m gonna go find that daughter of mine…”

Connor let Hank go, unable to tear his eyes away from Markus. The other android gave Chloe a spin before bowing out of the dance floor, all laughter and apologies. He caught Connor’s eye for a moment, sending him a breathless **_I love you_** through the air before being swept into a circle of humans who all wanted to congratulate him and talk to him about his plans for the future. Connor stayed against the wall as the hours ticked by, watching Markus mix and mingle and talk, his hands touching a shoulder here, a back there, a firm handshake, a hug for an old acquaintance.

He wanted to dance with Markus. He wanted Markus’ hands on him, on his body, wanted Markus’ eyes on his, wanted Markus’ attention all for himself.

The party was wrapping up. The humans who remained all looked fairly drunk, and several androids were also stumbling around from experimenting with human beverages and food. Markus was in a corner with Jake McKinley, his smile looking more forced than usual as McKinley’s hands kept finding Markus’ arms. He was leaning in too close, ignoring how Markus subtly leaned back.

 _Fuck it._ The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like the love child of Hank and Carl. Connor set his half-drunk glass of thirium aside and started walking toward Markus.

He wanted to dance with his lover.

Across the room, Markus’ head turned, and his eyes caught Connor’s. They widened for a moment, and then a smile spread across his face. Markus pulled away from McKinley, his eyes never leaving Connor’s as they came together as if magnetized.

Connor lifted his arms and settled them around Markus’ neck, while Markus’ hands landed on Connor’s hips and skimmed up until he was cupping Connor’s face. The song pulsing through the speakers swelled, and Connor found his body moving with Markus’ as if they had rehearsed this from the beginning.

[_Sí, sabes que ya llevo un rato mirándote_ _  
_ _Tengo que bailar contigo hoy_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wWbgjsNW-XY)

It was a classic song from over twenty years ago, a fast-paced Latin song of love and passion.

It was a song about sex and need, and Connor and Markus moved in perfect sync, their eyes rarely leaving each other as they claimed the dance floor for their own. Their feet, their hips, their hands, every motion and gesture was only for the other. There were no words, not even an interface. There didn’t have to be. [They slid together and spun apart and came back, hands touching, fingers caressing, hips rolling as one.](https://i.imgur.com/8Gbc0v5.gifv)

It wasn’t until the music ended and their bodies finally stopped that Connor remembered they hadn’t been alone. This was not a dance shared in Markus’ tiny room or Carl’s expansive studio or even in Hank’s living room in fuzzy socks as one of Hank’s records played in the background. This was the last dance of the night at a party celebrating a milestone in the fight for android rights, and the pair were surrounded by dozens of their peers, both android and human, while their faces were only inches apart, Markus’ fingers in his hair, Connor’s hand on Markus’ cheek.

“Now kiss!” someone called, and Connor could not for the life of him tell if that had been North or Chloe. It didn’t matter. Markus’ lips were on his, and Connor closed his eyes, drowning in his lover as their audience exploded in screams and cheers as enthusiastic as they had been at the end of Markus’ speech.

Someone was announcing something, ending the party? It was hard to hear over the thirium rushing in his ears. Connor pressed his face against Markus’ neck as Markus broke the kiss, feeling his laughter against his chest.

Markus was talking, thanking people for their presence and support, wrapping up the night. How was he able to talk at all right now? His arm was firm around Connor’s waist, keeping Connor pressed close against his side. Connor shifted, biting his lip as the movement rubbed Markus’ thigh against his groin. He needed to get out of this room. Now. Ten minutes ago. He needed to get somewhere with Markus where there weren’t ten dozen pairs of eyes on them, because he needed to do more than just kiss the other android.

The end of the party was all a blur to Connor. Hank and Carl had been standing together. Hank looked impressed, Carl smug. North wolf-whistled. Kamski said something about gratitude? Markus’ arm was a steady brand around Connor’s body, up until the elevator doors closed behind them.

“What floor?” Markus asked, his eyes never leaving Connor’s.

“Top,” Connor answered. Markus hit the button and pounced, pressing Connor back against the mirrored wall.

 ** _Thank god you waited until the end of the night…_** Markus dragged his nails down Connor’s chest, making him shiver even through the cotton of his shirt. **_I was barely holding it together at the end…_**

 _Still doing better than me…!_ Connor let his head fall back beneath the force of the kiss, his hands shoving up the back of Markus’ shirt. _Markus, I need…_

 ** _I got you…_** Markus’ hands slid down Connor’s back to cup his ass. Connor moaned brokenly, rocking forward into Markus’ body. **_You’re...really into this tonight…_**

 _Si te pido un beso ven dámelo,_ Connor sang to Markus. _Yo sé que estás pensándolo, llevo tiempo intentándolo…_

 ** _Despacito…_** Markus slid his hands down further, seizing Connor’s thighs from behind and lifting him off the ground. Connor gasped, wrapping his legs around Markus’ hips. “You need to stop me.” Markus’ voice was breathless, his words panted into the hair by Connor’s ear. “Connor, if you don’t want this, you need to stop me _now_ , because _god_ , I need you, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop soon…”

“Get me to our bed,” Connor gasped. He gripped his legs around Markus and rolled against his lover, loving how deeply Markus shuddered, “and I won’t stop you for anything.” He pushed his own need back through their link, making Markus groan and thrust against him. His mouth fell to Connor’s neck, nipping and sucking at Connor’s skin, as the elevator slid to a stop and the doors opened.

Connor unhooked his legs and dropped off Markus’ hips, immediately missing the feeling of Markus’ hard cock pressed against his own. He threaded his fingers through Markus’ and tugged him to the door, unlocking it and opening the penthouse. This was the first time Markus would see his new home.

Markus dragged Connor inside as soon as the door was open, but he stopped. His desperate pull slackened, and he looked around with his jaw hanging loose. “This is… Connor! Did you do this!?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise for you.” Connor stepped up behind Markus, pressing against his back but trying to keep his dick away from Markus’ ass. He wrapped his arms around Markus’ chest and put his chin on his lover’s shoulder. “I wanted you to have the home you wanted.”

“So _that’s_ what all those questions were for…” Markus covered Connor’s arms with his own and squeezed. “Con… I don’t need all this.”

“Too late, it’s already yours.”

Markus huffed, then pushed his body back to mold himself against Connor’s. “If you’re there, it’s all the home I want.”

“Sap,” Connor accused, feeling his face flush and unsure if it was from Markus’ heartfelt comment or the way he felt pressed against Connor’s dick.

“Where’s our bedroom?” Markus asked. “I’ll show you how sappy I can be…”

“First left through the doors.” Connor lifted a hand to gesture and Markus grabbed it, pulling him ahead.

The windows were already privacy-tinted, but Connor still flung a wireless command their way to close the blinds. Markus didn’t have eyes for anything but the bed, yanking Connor forward and pushing him to the mattress. Connor sat up as Markus dropped his coat to the floor, reaching to grab the collar of Markus’ shirt from behind and yank it over his head.

Markus climbed onto the bed, his knees bracketing Connor’s legs, as they came together in another series of desperate kisses. His hands hitched at Connor’s shirt, and a voiceless _Yes…_ was all he needed to pull the buttons loose, pushing it off one of Connor’s arms at a time because Connor couldn’t bring himself to let go with both hands at once. Markus’ own hands caught Connor beneath his armpits, hauling him further onto the bed. Connor scrambled to brace himself against the overstuffed pillows, toeing off his shoes and reaching for Markus again.

The older android crawled over Connor, his sculpted muscles rippling as he moved. Connor let himself pull Markus up, mapping out the shape of his body. He followed his fingers with his mouth, rolling them over so Markus was on his back. Connor wasn’t aiming for finesse. Not tonight. Tonight he wanted to run his tongue over every inch of Markus’ body, tasting as much as he could, finding all of the little erogenous zones where Markus’ sensors ran hot.

His nipples were expected. Connor licked at the darker peaks, loving how the texture changed beneath his sensitive tongue, how he could make Markus gasp if he pressed the flat of his tongue against a nipple, or whimper if he circled just the tip around, or cry out with a hand tugging at Connor’s hair if he pressed his mouth tight and sucked on the bud. Connor moaned himself, switching from left to right to see if there was any difference.

“Connor…!” Markus had both hands in Connor’s hair now, pulling and tugging and it was setting off the sensors in his scalp. Connor retaliated by biting gently on Markus’ nipple, which earned him a yelp and a jolt of Markus’ hips, dragging his cock against Connor’s thigh.

“I want you naked.” Connor pulled away from Markus’ chest just far enough to whisper the words. He blinked, then looked up at Markus, who was watching him with open desire in his mismatched eyes. “I want to see you, _taste_ you…”

Markus moaned, his hands dropping away from Connor’s head to fumble between their bodies. Connor could feel him shift and twist, hips lifting up beneath him, and then Markus gave a kick and his pants flumped to the floor. He was naked. Connor knew without looking that Markus hadn’t stripped in stages. He wanted to look. He was scared. What if it triggered him? Cunningham always loved his mouth…

Before Connor could go much further down that route, Markus was pushing at his shoulders, rolling them over again. Despite being on the bottom, this was not a familiar position for Connor, and Markus knew it. In that room, Connor was either face down in the mattress or on top, riding the man like he wanted it. Like this, on his back with Markus’ arms bracketing him, his mouth sealing over Connor’s again, his weight heavy on Connor’s thighs, Connor felt safe. The bed was soft beneath him, the blankets plush, and Markus was in his mind and on his body, filling all his senses with nothing but good and safe and home.

 ** _May I…?_** Markus’ mouth was busy with Connor’s, but his hands were sliding down, nails drawing sharp lines of pleasure across his chest, twisting at his nipples and tracing around his navel before running along his waistband. Markus’ thumbs slipped beneath the cloth, rubbing at the dips of Connor’s hips.

 _Please…!_ Connor didn’t let himself think about what Markus was doing as he moved his hands to Connor’s fly, undoing the button and pulling the zip down torturously slow. Connor wailed into Markus’ head, clutching at his shoulders and kissing him fiercely. Markus’ hands were _right there_ , brushing over and against his erection, barely-there caresses as he pulled the fabric loose and tugged Connor’s pants down. _Markus, PLEASE!_

And then they were past his knees and Connor could give a kick and free his legs fully. He was naked. He was naked with Markus, who was also naked, and Markus was breaking the kiss, leaning back to look into Connor’s eyes and search his mind at the same time. His desperation and Connor’s were washing back and forth between them, but even despite their overwhelming _need_ , Markus was still trying to make sure Connor was okay.

Somehow, that little bit of concern was all Connor needed. He spread his legs, bracing his feet on the bed and rolling up. Their dicks dragged together, hard and aching. Connor’s thirium was racing through his body, his regulator completely maxed out, and he didn’t, _couldn’t_ care. Markus pressed him into the bed, moaning deeply as he mouthed across Connor’s skin.

With the rapid rate of his thirium keeping his sensors flush with energy, every touch of Markus’ lips felt like fire, a delicious heat that filled Connor and set off sparks beneath his skin. His tongue felt like a brand, claiming Connor for his own, possessive and protective all at once. Connor’s breath was hitching in his throat, his voice fracturing and breaking with his pleas and cries as he pushed on Markus’ shoulders, begging him to go lower.

Markus’ mouth found every sculpted muscle and bone. If Connor’s skin could show bruises that did not include structural damage, he knew his body would be a mottled canvas of Markus’ lips. And still Markus worked down Connor’s body, kissing across his abs and hips. Connor cried, thrusting uselessly into the air now as Markus kissed his inner thighs, chuckling against the sensitive skin of his groin. “P-please…!”

“Please what?” Markus asked, blowing gently across Connor’s dick, already leaking slick strands of lubricant. He ducked lower, nuzzling at Connor’s balls before pushing his mouth around the concentrated synthetic skin. Connor could just feel the heat and pressure, so tantalizingly close but not directly on any of his sensors.

 _You’re cruel!_ Connor whimpered, writhing beneath Markus’ ministrations.

**_You’re delicious. But I also think you’re a little too wound up…_ **

_As if you’re any better!_

**_There’s a reason I’m not letting you close enough to touch me!_** Markus pulled his mouth away, kissing the base of Connor’s dick. **_I want to be inside you tonight. All the way._**

 _God, PLEASE yes…_ Connor forced his legs further apart, reaching down to touch Markus’ face and hair, all he could reach without sitting up. Markus was on his knees, his own hips rocking and thrusting against the empty air, eyes alight with a need for Connor. Connor shivered in the face of such pure want, nodding at Markus. “Please,” he whispered through his shaky voice. “Please, Markus, please, please, I don’t want to wait anymore, I just want you, I just want…”

Markus surged up to kiss Connor again, one hand fisting in his hair while the other pushed back between Connor’s legs. Connor moaned into Markus’ mouth, nipping at his tongue as Markus’ fingers found his sensitive entrance, already slick and wet.

As a rule, androids didn’t need much preparation for sex. Even without foreplay, the insertion of anything into their cavities triggered the release of lubrication, and they were designed to stretch around even the girthiest of humans. Nevertheless, Markus pushed two fingers into Connor’s body, thrusting gently as Connor trembled beneath him. Connor closed his eyes at the sheer thoughtfulness of his lover, struggling valiantly not to cry simply from the onslaught of emotion.

 ** _Con, god, I want you so much…_** Markus pressed another two fingers into Connor’s body. Connor ignored the squelch of so much movement through the lubricant, shivering and gasping every time Markus’ fingers brushed against his internal sensors, his body clutching at Markus’ hand.

_Please, I can’t, Markus, please now, please, I need you now, want you in me…_

Markus pressed his forehead to Connor’s chest, taking a shaky breath. He pulled his fingers out, shifting and settling between his thighs. Connor could just feel the head of Markus’ cock brushing his hole. **_Are you sure?_**

Even Markus’ mental voice was shaking with the exertion of holding himself back. Connor looked down at Markus crouched between his legs, naked and desperate and still needing to know Connor was okay. Instead of answering with words, Connor reached between them, gripping Markus’ cock and pushing himself down.

Their connection whited out for a moment, and Markus gasped harshly, falling forward to brace himself on either side of Connor’s stomach. Connor rolled his hips in little circles, hooking his feet around Markus’ back and using him as leverage to pull Markus even deeper. “Markus…”

“Connor…” Markus moaning his name in his wrecked voice was the most beautiful sound Connor had ever heard. Connor clutched at Markus’ arms, digging his fingers in past the synthetic skin.

 _Move,_ he whispered into Markus’ mind, squeezing his eyes shut, but not fast enough to keep a few tears from leaking out of the corners of his eyes. _Please move, I can’t… not long...too good, too much…_

His sensors were going crazy, feeding him every bit of information they could measure. Every last nub and fold in the blankets beneath Connor’s back lit sparks of pleasure in his mind, especially as Markus dragged his hips back and snapped them forward, jostling Connor’s entire body. The very movement of air between them was heavenly across Connor’s overstimulated sensors. Connor fed all of this to Markus in addition to the feeling of being full, of not missing a piece, not missing _Markus._

In return, Markus was pushing back the sight of Connor stretched out beneath him, moaning non-stop, his entire body flushed with arousal and heat. Connor could feel how tight he was around Markus’ dick, how good it felt for Markus with every pull and slide of his body.

Markus leaned forward and Connor surged up to meet him, the kiss messy and unsynchronized. Markus shifted his weight onto one hand and Connor sobbed as he _finally_ felt Markus’ touch on his dick, those talented fingers wrapping around him and stroking in time with each of his own thrusts.

It was all over in an instant, Connor’s hips driving up into Markus’ hand and in turn pulling Markus deeper inside him. Connor came with a sob of Markus’ name, his release exploding through his synapses and shorting out his processor.

Even through the white fuzz of his orgasm, Connor could feel Markus thrust deep inside him, could feel the flood of more lubricant and the way his lover’s body shook and collapsed. Connor mumbled Markus’ name, trying to find the coordination to wrap him in his arms. Their interface was still open, their dual orgasms sloshing between them and keeping their afterglows fueled far longer than any individual session.

Connor was shaking as the static faded and his sensors came back online properly. He pressed his trembling fingers against Markus’ chest, watching as Markus blinked open his mismatched eyes and slurred his name. “Con…?”

“I… I…” Connor was scared. He was suddenly, blindingly terrified, but he didn’t know what of. He had just had sex with Markus. He had just had an orgasm. It had been amazing. It was… bad?

Markus shifted, pulling his softening dick out of Connor’s body. Connor whimpered softly, not because it hurt, but because of some sense of loss. Markus brushed his lips over Connor’s forehead, shushing him gently. “It’s okay, Connor, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here. I have you. I love you.” His strong arms wrapped around Connor, cradling his shattered sense of self in close, and he rolled them over, tugging at the blankets until they were wrapped up together.

Connor kept shivering, but beneath the top comforter was his navy blue plush blanket that Markus had bought him, and though it felt like altogether too much, it also felt familiar and safe. Markus’ arms were familiar and safe. Connor pushed his face into Markus’ chest and breathed, categorizing the scents. He could recognize them all. Markus. Safety. Home.

“You’re overstimulated, Connor. It’s okay.” Markus smoothed his fingers down Connor’s back, over and over, a soothing repetition. He was trying to minimize the inputs, Connor realized. Markus was blocking him away from most of the world and keeping what little he _was_ registering to repetitive, simple gestures and words. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I have you. I love you. It’s okay.”

Connor blinked and took a deep breath, letting it all out with a shudder. His hands crept around to Markus’ back, and he nuzzled in against his neck. “I love you too,” he finally whispered. “I… god, Markus…”

“You back with me?” Markus brushed his hand through Connor’s hair. “Can I kiss you now?”

Connor kissed Markus himself, pulling himself up to meet his lips. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“Don’t apologize. You can’t help how you’re designed.” Markus cupped Connor’s head between his hands, dusting kisses across his nose and cheeks. “Are you… aside from overloading, are you okay? With… everything?”

With his memories, Connor knew Markus meant. With his trauma. Connor closed his eyes, thinking. He imagined kissing Markus, touching him, having Markus’ hands on him. His mind immediately pulled up the closest reference he had: this amazing sex in their bed, in their home. Not Cunningham. Connor swallowed, feeling about to cry again. “I’m okay,” he whispered. He laughed. “I’m finally okay…”


End file.
